The Makings of an Auror Chapter 6
by harrypotter12
Summary: chapter six of the Makings of an Auror
1. Default Chapter

The Makings of an Auror Chapter 06 -----------------------------  
  
Halloween passed, bringing them into the month of November. As the days crawled by, Hermione grew more and more excited about the upcoming graduation ceremony. When they only had two weeks left of training, she was practically dancing on the balls of her feet.  
  
"Two more weeks!" she squealed, on a chilly November morning, when they had just arrived at the training area. "Two more weeks and we'll be certified, and we'll be back at Hogwarts. Doesn't it make you excited?"  
  
"Of course it does," Draco replied half-heartedly. "But personally I've enjoyed time away from Hogwarts."  
  
"To each his own," Hermione said cheerfully. "I can't wait till we get back."  
  
"There's Voldemort to think about," Draco reminded her. "It's not going to be all fun and no work. We still have to head the school's defense board. Up until that letter we received a while back, I'd never even guessed we had a defense board."  
  
"I'd never thought about it much either. I'm surprised it wasn't in Hogwarts: A History."  
  
"Maybe they wanted to keep it quiet?" Draco offered.  
  
Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps, but I see no reason why they'd need to."  
  
"Avoiding publicity is my guess. They don't want people thinking Hogwarts needs a defense system. Its odd Voldemort would attack the school anyway without some major reason. He'd have plenty of other opportunities in the future to kill Harry off anyway. Which would do us all a favor."  
  
"On the bright side," Hermione interrupted, ignoring his last comment. "What do you plan to do first once we get back to the school? Going to visit your friends?"  
  
"Friends? What friends?" Draco asked wryly. "Oh you mean Crabbe and Goyle."  
  
"Of course I mean Crabbe and Goyle. It's a pity they failed, they could have left the school and did us all good."  
  
"Crabbe and Goyle are pathetic. I think I'll go solo from now on, see how that works out," Draco replied.  
  
"They will be heartbroken," Hermione said sympathetically. Draco scoffed.  
  
"They won't miss me," he informed her, waving an arm for emphasis. "If they have any brains, they'd realize they don't need me as much to scare people off."  
  
"That's harsh," said Hermione, a grin on her face. "It is true, but it is harsh."  
  
They arrived at the Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Hermione hadn't seen much of Jonathan Lambert, aside from the lessons three times a week. When Draco and Hermione entered the classroom, they spotted Jonathan, flipping through some papers. They had arrived five minutes earlier than normal, and only two other students were in the class. When Draco cleared his throat, Jonathan looked up.  
  
"Ahh Hermione, and Mr. Draco Malfoy. How are you doing?" Hermione glanced at him. Always a long sleeved shirt, she thought to herself, hiding a smile.  
  
Despite herself, Hermione felt her face break into a grin. "We're doing just fine, although I notice we're getting double the amount of homework."  
  
"Exams are coming up," Jonathan said, setting the papers on the far side of the desk and out of view. "We're preparing you." Draco rolled his eyes. He's speaking cookbook language.  
  
"Draco makes fun of me for studying so much, but we'll see who has the last laugh when it comes to the exam results." Hermione glanced at Draco, who had an impatient look on his face and was nodding to himself.  
  
"So how about lunch today? It's supposed to be something good," Jonathan asked, talking more to Hermione than to Draco.  
  
"That sounds--."  
  
"Great," Draco interrupted, and both Jonathan and Hermione turned to look at him with identical looks of surprise on their faces. "It sounds great, but we really need to prepare for the exams. All those questions--." He trailed off, staring at Hermione pointedly.  
  
"Perhaps another time then," Jonathan said. Hermione was about to open her mouth to protest but Draco took her by the upper arm, gently enough so Lambert wouldn't be shocked, and steered her towards the back of the room, pushing her down into a chair in front of a desk.  
  
"That was uncalled for," Hermione said in a disapproving tone. Draco ignored her.  
  
"We should study. When I finally want to study, you want to go eat lunch with the Lambert git."  
  
"Draco, that name really gets old after awhile," Hermione snapped.  
  
"You want me to call him something else? Because there's plenty more where that came from."  
  
"What's up with eating? You always go out to eat. It's like the social place here," Draco protested. "A walk in the park is nice. Swimming is good too. But it's always out to eat. He probably poisoned the food or something."  
  
"Draco just.shut up," said Hermione in a frustrated voice. "You don't need to get hacked off over a lunch invitation." Draco didn't say anything, but was staring at the floor, his arms crossed defiantly.  
  
The classroom filled with students, and Jonathan Lambert stood up at the front of the room.  
  
"Hello all," he said warmly, smiling broadly at the class. "Nice to see all of you again. For today's lesson, I've brought in a little something special. First of all, let's start off with a little information. How many of you have heard of the Emerald Orb?"  
  
Immediately, Hermione raised her hand, nearly taking Draco's nose off in the process. He cast her a disgruntled look.  
  
"Excellent, I hoped most of you had heard of it. The Emerald Orb is an ancient object, used back in the times of Egyptian witches and wizards. I'm sure some of you have heard of it if you've ever taken Ancient Runes Studies. The Orb is used in most cases as a Sneakoscope, but it has a more advanced way of working. The Emerald Orb picks up Dark Magic, emotions, things that could warn a wizard of danger nearby. Emotion-wise, it recognizes feelings as anger, love, hatred, happiness, nervousness, and uneasiness. When someone is in love, nearby of course, it will turn pink. When it picks up anger, it glows red; with hatred, or dark magic, it turns green. I believe you get the basic idea.  
  
"Now you may think that this isn't such a great object, but it has also been rumored that the Emerald Orb is a key. A key that can unlock a mystical item, greater than the Orb itself. The object has been said to be of use to Salazar Slytherin's descendants only. Why am I telling you this? It may be of future use to you, in case you are called upon to protect the Orb. But the chances of this happening are slim. Today, I have brought along a little something."  
  
He walked to the other side of the room and picked up a small object. "This is an inactivated Orb." The class broke out into whispers. Hermione raised her hand.  
  
"Inactivated? You need to use a spell to activate it then, right?" she asked. Jonathan smiled.  
  
"Yes, you do. Normally I'd teach you the spell, but we wouldn't want this to be activated just yet. Once it is activated, it can only work for a short period of time, and once it wears out, it becomes dormant for a year. Normally it lasts for a month or two, which in a sense is a fairly good amount of time, but if you are on a schedule, it leaves you wary. Tonight for your homework," Jonathan began, and there was a rustling in the classroom. "You need to write a composition on the orb, and it's many features. No more than three hundred words, no less."  
  
The class folded up their parchment and stuffed quills and inkbottles back inside their book bags. Draco stood up, book bag slung over his shoulder. Hermione, however, remained seated.  
  
"Hermione?" he said. "Lambert left the room, you can close your mouth and stop drooling now." Draco's voice was dripping with scorn. But she blinked quickly a few times and looked up at him.  
  
"What? Oh yes, class is finished isn't it." She absentmindedly grabbed her books and stuffed them into Draco's book bag instead of her own, and walked past him.  
  
"Uh, Hermione.you forgot your book bag."  
  
"Of course, of course," Hermione replied hurriedly, snapping back at him and grabbing her book bag. Draco watched her storm past him with a confused look on his face. He trailed after her.  
  
"Is something the matter?" he asked, walking faster to match her pace.  
  
"No, why do you ask?"  
  
"For a moment back there you were all weird," Draco commented, and he realized she was walking to the library on the grounds.  
  
"Acting weird?" she echoed dryly. "Why would I be acting weird? I feel perfectly fine." She opened the large brass doors to the library and stepped inside, with Draco following.  
  
"You almost forgot your book bag, and you're not a very forgetful person," he said, sitting down at one of the tables, but Hermione kept standing.  
  
"How would you know, you haven't known me that long." She turned on her heels and began to walk down one of the aisles, but Draco bolted up from his chair and grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.  
  
"You don't act like this Hermione, and I've known you long enough to realize when something's up," he said, half-yelling, half-shaking her to death. Her eyes went unfocused for a minute. She was looking up into his face, but it seemed she was staring at the back of his skull, rather than his eyes.  
  
"You're right. I don't know why I'm acting this way, because I don't feel any differently." She suddenly felt very tired. "I guess it's just stress, or lack of sleep."  
  
"Well if that's the case then slow down," said Draco, his hands still resting on her shoulders. Hermione bit her lip.  
  
"Yet I feel it's something else," she continued, backing out of his grasp and leaning against one of the bookshelves. "It's almost like I'm dreading something, but I don't know what. I feel it." Draco looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. She didn't look as perky as she had when they had left Hogwarts a month and a half ago. Her eyes were empty of emotion and there were dark blue circles beneath her eyes. Her whole demeanor had a sagging appearance, and she put a hand to her forehead wearily. "Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes," said Draco, "and no."  
  
"It is hard to explain," Hermione began, turning around and examining the bookshelves. "But I know it's there." Draco was very quiet for a minute, and he chewed the tip of his tongue in thought. Hermione pulled out two large books and walked past him, setting them down on the table next to Draco's book bags.  
  
"Did you notice Lambert?" Draco asked, sitting down next to her. "He seemed to be rubbing his arm a lot."  
  
"Well he's always wearing a sweatshirt. Maybe he's anemic," Hermione offered.  
  
"Yeah, maybe."  
  
"Now be quiet and read this," Hermione said, shoving an open book in his direction. Draco pulled it closer and began to read.  
  
The Emerald Orb is a legendary item, and is rarely found outside a museum ('How'd Lambert get one?' Draco had asked, but Hermione put a finger to her lips). There are currently seven Emerald Orbs in existence. Three are held in museums located in Britain, one in North America, and the other three belong to the Department of Legendary Objects. The creator of the Orb is unknown, but it is rumored that Salazar Slytherin created it. The Orb picks up emotions, and can be used to detect Dark Magic. The Orb also works as a key, which unlocks a greater object more powerful than the Orb, and it may possibly be deadly, if Slytherin crafted it.  
  
"It may be deadly, if Slytherin crafted it?" Draco repeated, in disbelief. "That's insulting."  
  
"Why?" Hermione asked. Draco made a noise of impatience and pointed to himself. "Me. In Slytherin. Practically a direct descendant of Salazar himself. If they're saying he's nutters, then that means they're insulting me too."  
  
"You.you're a descendant of Slytherin?" Hermione asked quietly, almost choking on her own words. Draco looked at her curiously.  
  
"Yeah, why?" His eyes widened. "Look, if you think I'm going to kill Potter or something, let me assure you--."  
  
"No, it's not about Harry," Hermione said, turning slightly red. "It's just.nothing. I just never knew." Draco had a suspicious look on his face, but he turned back to his book anyway. Hermione felt sick to her stomach. It can't be, she kept repeating to herself. He can't be the heir of Slytherin, he just can't be. A descendant, possibly, but not the heir. And you will NOT fall in love with Draco Malfoy. Nope, sorry.  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Draco asked. "Your eyes are bugging out, and you look like somebody told you the exams were cancelled." Hermione didn't smile, or even acknowledge she heard this. She just turned the leaf of her book, staring not at its pages but at the table. "That's nice," she said quietly.  
  
"Did I mention that I have a spaceship and it can fly all the way to Neptune?" Draco asked.  
  
"Oh, that's great."  
  
"And that my mother's a werewolf?"  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
"Hermione!" Draco shouted. Her head snapped up, her dark brown eyes meeting Draco's cool gray ones. "You're not listening to a thing I'm saying."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, averting her gaze. He was giving her a penetrating look, as if he was opening her mind and reading her thoughts as easily as a book. Draco didn't reply to this, he just shook his head sadly and went back to reading his book.  
  
"Draco--," Hermione began, surprising herself and him that she was speaking. "I.I've been meaning to tell you something." Draco set his quill down and nodded, a sign for her to speak. "You know when Mrs. Burton- -." But she didn't have a chance to continue, as the doors to the library opened, and a group of chattering students came in.  
  
"This just isn't my day," Hermione grumbled, sinking down into her chair and putting her face in her hands. "First Lambert, now a noisy library."  
  
"Lambert? What's Lambert got to do with this?"  
  
"Oh, well," Hermione said, looking sheepish. "He's what got us fighting earlier."  
  
"Actually, it was your melancholy mood that did it really."  
  
"Was it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Ahh." She tucked her parchment inside her book carefully and closed it. "We'd better check these out, we can use them back at the hotel, or suites, whatever you want to call it." Draco closed his own book and followed her to the checkout desk.  
  
***  
  
The next two weeks passed, slowly but surely. Draco and Hermione passed the final exams with flying colors. A week later, they were packing, preparing for the trip home to Hogwarts. They had just graduated. It was a brilliant ceremony, with charmed lights, real fairies, and wreaths that sang merrily when you walked by. Hermione and Draco were both given an honorary medal, for completing the training camp alone. When they got back to the hotel, however, somebody was sitting on the bed. It was Lambert.  
  
"I let myself in," he said hurriedly, seeing the shocked looks on their faces. "I couldn't wait to give you a graduation present."  
  
"Are you talking to me, or Hermione?" Draco asked bitterly.  
  
"I'm talking about both of you," Jonathan said, a surprised look on his face, due to Draco's acrimony. "I wanted to give you this." He reached his hand behind his back and pulled something around for them to see.  
  
"The Emerald Orb?" Hermione said breathlessly.  
  
"Yes. I heard about your unpleasant Voldemort business, and thought that maybe this would help. I'd like you to have it."  
  
"Jonathan--."  
  
"Wait a minute," Draco said. "How'd you get one of these anyway? There are only seven in existence; three are in Britain, one is in North America, and the other three belong to the Ministry."  
  
"I asked the ministry if I could give it to you, and they consented," Jonathan said, pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it to Draco.  
  
Mr. Jonathan Lambert, By this letter, we give you official permission to give one Emerald Orb to two of the Hogwarts students for safekeeping, and help against tracking Voldemort. If any further questions are necessary, owl us back anytime for immediate assistance.  
  
Sincerely, Bathilda Haggerty  
  
"I don't know," Draco said slowly, handing Hermione the letter, and she took it, scanning the letter eagerly. "Sounds fishy to me."  
  
"Come on Draco, you're always telling me to lighten up. It's a wonderful gift Jonathan, thank you."  
  
"No problem at all," Jonathan said. He checked his pocketwatch. "Look at the time! I gotta run. Maybe I'll see you again someday."  
  
"Maybe you will," said Hermione, a small smile on her face. Jonathan stood up and walked over to Hermione, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then he turned to Draco and extended a hand.  
  
"Aww, I don't get a kiss too?" Draco asked, and Lambert looked at him in horror. "God Lambert, it's a joke." He reluctantly took Jonathan's hand and let go immediately. With a small wave, Jonathan had left the hotel. Hermione stared at the door for a long time, a silly grin on her face. Draco was scowling.  
  
"He kissed you," Draco pointed out.  
  
"It was just a goodbye kiss," Hermione said, yet she was grinning and blushing profusely. Draco looked very unhappy.  
  
"Oh, I bought something," he said, and he disappeared into the closet. When he came out, he was carrying a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses. Hermione scowled as he set them down.  
  
"You're underage, she told him sternly. And so am I."  
  
"I turn eighteen in a week, so it's not that bad," he pointed out. "As for you," he added hastily. "We can bend the rules just this once." He propped up the glass in front of her and poured a generous amount of wine in her glass. She took it and drained it without question, Draco gawking at her. She spluttered a few seconds later, coughing and wheezing.  
  
"It happens to everyone at least once in their life," he informed her, thumping her on the back as she choked. She weakly held up her glass, and he skeptically poured more wine for her. "Easy Granger!" Hermione had just nearly drunk the whole glass again.  
  
"More," she said stubbornly. Draco shook his head.  
  
"Two is plenty, we don't need you drunk," Draco protested, but Hermione grabbed the wine bottle for herself and drank out of the bottle. Draco cried out.  
  
"Stop, stop, stop," he said hurriedly, yanking it out of her grasp. "Bad Granger. Bad, bad, bad Granger."  
  
"That tastes good," she said, a stupid grin on her face. She was beginning to feel lightheaded. Draco placed the wine bottle a good deal away from her.  
  
"I had a question for you," he said. Hermione looked at him. "When we get back to Hogwarts, would you-well, like to go to.I dunno, Hogsmeade or something?"  
  
"Sure, why not?" Hermione said. She began to feel dizzy.  
  
"I mean, like, a date," Draco said, and he wished he immediately could take it back. Hermione nearly dropped her wine glass.  
  
"A date? You mean.a date?"  
  
"I don't mean the fruit Hermione," he said. "Of course I mean a date."  
  
"Oh.yeah, sure."  
  
"What?" Draco asked, nearly falling off the bed. "You want to?"  
  
"Yes! I do, I actually do," she said. Draco looked so happy for a moment, she was sure he'd burst. But what happened next was so unexpected, so ludicrous. Draco leaned forward and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Hermione really dropped the wine glass this time. She heard it hit the ground, and her ankle went wet. But she didn't care. She felt herself clutch at his shirt collar, desperate to bring him closer, but that was impossible, as she was as close to him as she could ever be. Never in her life had she experienced such a feeling. She felt like she was falling and flying at the same time, her ears pounding, her heart soaring.  
  
When Draco pulled back, Hermione heard herself make a noise of protest. But he had only leaned back to get a breath of air, and then he had covered her mouth with his again. She felt his heart beat wildly against his chest, pounding against hers. Kissing Draco was completely different from kissing Harry. Harry was gentle, and always careful. But Draco was kissing her more passionately than she had ever thought possible. There was emotion penned up behind his kiss, as if a dam had burst, and everything he felt was flooding out into her. But just as she was getting caught in the moment, a deep pang of guilt shattered her heart. Draco. Kissing Draco. Harry. Before she could stop herself, she pushed him away fiercely, causing him to stumble backwards and land on his own bed. She was shaking, not with fear, but with rage. How dare he kiss her? How dare he? Shut up, said a voice in the back of her head. You liked it, and you know it.  
  
"Hermione--."  
  
"No," she heard herself say. "Just don't say anything." Draco went quiet, a confused and hurt look on his face. Then he stood up and brought out his wand. For a split second, she thought he was going to hex her into pieces, but he merely pointed it at the carpet and muttered something. She felt her ankle go dry, and she looked down. The red wine was disappearing from the carpet and her shoe. Then he turned around, so his back was to her, and picked up his luggage. He walked over to the front door, and without a backward glance, he opened the door, walked out of it, and closed it behind him.  
  
***  
  
"'allo there! Good to see ya again," said the familiar voice of Stan Shunpike. The Knight Bus had arrived for Draco and Hermione, and when Hermione saw it, she had to restrain herself from jumping with joy. She had done it. She was a fully trained Auror.  
  
"Put yer bags over there," Stan said, when he had seen Hermione. "You know the routine." Hermione carried her bags over to the small compartment beneath the bus and stuffed them in there. Draco's luggage had already been loaded. Then she stepped onto the bus, taking careful note of Stan's driver Ernie and how close his foot was to the accelerator. She didn't want to go flying into anybody's arms again. Once the bus had started (with Hermione holding on to a bedpost), she wandered up to the upper flight. Draco was sitting on the bed farthest away from the stairs, and he was tracing his hand with his finger. When Hermione entered, he didn't look up. She slowly walked over to a bed opposite him and sat down. As she got closer, Hermione realized he was tracing a scar on the back of his hand. Hermione recalled the many times she'd seen these scars, but she had never asked how he had got them in the first place.  
  
"Hey," she said, in a small voice. Draco still didn't look up. "Umm.what are you doing?" Hermione asked, a feeling of foreboding settling down upon her.  
  
"What's it look like I'm doing?" he replied sardonically. Hermione was taken aback.  
  
"Erm.you look like you're.ahh, thinking, or something," Hermione said carefully.  
  
"Yes, and it's awfully hard to think with a chatterbox right in front of you," Draco said, and he looked up at her this time. His eyes were, as usual, completely unreadable, but his face was etched with an emotion that Hermione hadn't seen too often before. Something between a mixture of sadness and regret.  
  
"I-I'm sorry!" she cried out. "Look, if this is about that.that kiss," she said, saying the word with tremendous difficulty. Draco stared at her for a minute before looking down at his hands, "then just put it behind us."  
  
"Put it behind us," Draco said carefully. "That would be including the trip to Hogsmeade too, right?"  
  
"What trip to Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked, startled. Draco's face went pale.  
  
"I asked you, right before I kissed you, if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade some time, and you consented."  
  
"Did I?" said Hermione, turning equally pale now.  
  
"Well, yeah, you did."  
  
"I wouldn't mind going to Hogsmeade with you Draco--," she began, but he waved a hand impatiently and dismissed this statement.  
  
"I asked you out on a date, in other words."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And you said yes," Draco repeated. Hermione bit her lip.  
  
"Draco.I was drunk, and well, there's Harry--."  
  
"Everything is about Potter, isn't it," Draco said harshly, although quietly. "Of course you have Potter."  
  
"But you don't understand," Hermione pleaded. "You don't understand how much I--."  
  
"How much you love Harry right?"  
  
"No, how much I like you." She said these last words with finality, and Draco's face went blank. He didn't look up, and he didn't reply, he just sat there, staring at his hands as if they were the Quidditch World Cup. "I would love going to Hogsmeade with you Draco. But just not on a date. It just.wouldn't work out yet. This is so stupid. Look at us." Draco looked up somewhat childishly, his head still bent downward so he had to peek up at her through his eyelashes. "Look at us fighting like this. Why can't we just let it go? We'll have a great time at Hogwarts. I'll come to your Quidditch practices, we'll study together, and we'll even eat lunch together." Draco looked up completely at her.  
  
"You.you mean it?"  
  
"Yes, I mean it."  
  
"What about Potter and Weasel?" Draco asked. "Won't they hate you?"  
  
"If they still want to be my friend, they'll have to put up with me liking you. And talking to you that is."  
  
"If you say so," Draco said, although she saw something that looked like a smile flicker across his face. "And Hermione--."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm really sorry about.about the kiss."  
  
"Kiss? What kiss?" Hermione asked. Draco looked at her blankly. Then, surprisingly, she burst out laughing. "It was a joke Draco, I swear. Your face.oh your face was hilarious."  
  
"I can never be serious with you!" he cried out, although he too was grinning now.  
  
"Hey, I'm not the Sarcastic Guy here," Hermione responded. "I'm always trying to get you to be serious."  
  
"Well I'm sarcastic at all the right times. You ruined a perfectly good apology."  
  
"I did not!" she responded.  
  
"Yes, you did."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too!"  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too!"  
  
"Did--."  
  
"We're here!" someone yelled from downstairs. Hermione closed her mouth abruptly and stood up, holding out her hand.  
  
"So we're friends?" she asked. Draco stared at her hand intently before taking it in his. It was the first time she had ever shook his hand before, without the gloves. His hand was cold, hers warm, and when he touched her, she felt herself mentally shiver. But before she could say anything, he had dropped his hand and was walking down the steps on the Knight Bus. Hermione followed, but Draco looked out the window and paused.  
  
"Uhh, Hermione, you go first, I left something upstairs," he said, and he took off to the upper flight. Hermione stepped off of the Knight Bus, and-  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She spun wildly around and came face to face with a muddy Harry.  
  
"Harry." she whispered, and before she could stop herself, she had thrown her arms around his neck. He stumbled backwards.  
  
"Hermione!" he repeated blankly, awkwardly patting her on the back, mud getting in her hair. She only clung onto him tighter, and he had to pry her off of him.  
  
"Harry, you're all.muddy," she giggled.  
  
"You are too now," Harry said. "I was doing Quidditch practice, and I saw the Knight Bus fly in, so I came over here."  
  
"Where's--."  
  
"Hermione!" someone else shouted. Ron was running in their direction, holding the Quaffle in one hand, his broom in the other. When he reached her however, both objects fell to the floor, and he hugged her.  
  
"Hey Ron!" she said happily. Ron pulled away from her, standing next to Harry. "It is so good to see you guys."  
  
"We've missed you so much-MALFOY?" Ron shrieked. Hermione felt suddenly sick. She turned around and saw Draco stepping off of the Knight Bus, holding his luggage, and hers. She slowly waved to him, so only he could see, and he nodded in her direction, holding up her luggage and pointing to the Entrance Hall. She nodded back at him.  
  
"Why is Malfoy with you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Oh.that. You see, I was on the Knight Bus, going back to Hogwarts, and then the Bus stopped, and Draco got on," she explained.  
  
"You just called him Draco. And he's stealing your luggage," Harry said, in an empty voice.  
  
"He's not stealing it Harry," she said, somewhat impatiently. "He's just putting it in the Entrance Hall for me."  
  
"Malfoy is putting your luggage in the ENTRANCE HALL?" Ron shrieked again, and both Harry and Hermione glared at him. "What?"  
  
"Stop yelling Ron. And yes, he's putting my luggage in the Entrance Hall."  
  
"Look, let's just calm down," Harry said, talking more to Ron, than to Hermione. Ron's ears looked like they were about to steam, which would have given his head the appearance as if it were on fire. "Let's just go up to the Gryffindor dormitories and let Hermione get settled in."  
  
Hermione gave Harry a 'thank-you' look and walked up to the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ron trailing behind her. She could hear Ron whispering furiously at Harry, and then Harry's reply back. When she reached the Entrance Hall, she spotted her luggage behind a plant. Once she had retrieved it, got it safely up into her dormitory (the password to the common room was wobbleforth) and changed into some comfortable clothes, she collapsed onto an armchair. Harry and Ron were already there, waiting for her.  
  
"How's your mum?" Harry asked.  
  
"My mum?"  
  
"Uhh, yeah. You know, tall, muggle woman, brown hair, dentist."  
  
"Oh yes. She's doing just fine. It was a long recovery, but she pulled through."  
  
"What did she have?"  
  
"Uhh, cardiometriosis ," Hermione lied. "It's a rare disease."  
  
"Cardiometriosis? Never heard of it," Ron said thoughtfully. "About Malfoy--."  
  
"Ron. Shut. Up. About. Malfoy."  
  
"Oh. Right. Of course," Ron said.  
  
"Well it's nearly lunchtime, and I'm starving, so why don't we head down to the Great Hall?" Harry asked, standing up, with Ron and Hermione following suit.  
  
"Sounds good to me," Hermione said.  
  
They walked down to the Great Hall, sitting down at their usual spot at Gryffindor. Hermione bit her lip and looked in the direction of the Slytherin table. Draco was sitting there, watching her intently. Apparently, Pansy Parkinson was chattering animatedly next to him, and he wasn't listening to a word of it. She waved to him, and Draco waved back. Harry saw this. He set down his fork with a clatter.  
  
"All right Hermione, would you please tell us the truth?" Harry asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What the hell is going on between you and Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"Malfoy?" said Hermione. "Nothing is going on between us." Harry was giving her a calculating look, and she wondered if one could buy a lock for their brain. Hers seemed to be searched a lot. "Look," she said, leaning closer to him. "I'll tell you in the common room," she said warily, trying to block Ron out of the conversation. "Alone." Harry's eyes went wide, and he cast Ron a glance. But he was engrossed in speaking to a very beautiful Ravenclaw. Now it was Hermione's turned to go bug-eyed.  
  
"Is that the girl you wrote to me about?" she asked. Harry nodded, a pained look on his face.  
  
"She and Ron have been together ever since you left. Which is a pity too, because I've seen her snog other guys when Ron's not around. Now I tried pointing it out to him, but he didn't believe me."  
  
"Typical Ron," Hermione said, shaking her head sadly. "She is pretty though."  
  
"But she couldn't use her brain if her life depended on it."  
  
"Ahh, the good-looks-no-brains type of girl. Why does Ron get caught up with these girls? First Fleur, now her." Harry shrugged his shoulders and took a bite of his sandwich. Once the Ravenclaw girl walked away, he sat down, a little pink around the ears.  
  
"Well Ron, where are you snogging tonight? A broom closet? The Astronomy Tower?"  
  
"Shut up Harry," Ron snapped. "Who said anything about snogging?"  
  
"Nobody. But you always have that guilty look whenever you get back to the common room late," Harry said. "Face it Ron. You're as transparent as glass." As if right on cue, Ron's face contorted in fury.  
  
"It is not!" he responded haughtily.  
  
"What's her name?" Hermione asked, trying to sound interested.  
  
"Rowena," Ron responded, going even pinker.  
  
"Rowena? And she's in Ravenclaw? That's interesting," Hermione said. "She could be the next heir." Ron made a noise of impatience.  
  
"She's muggle born," he pointed out.  
  
"So?" Hermione snapped, rather harder than she had intended to. Ron gave her a confused look.  
  
"Well, I just thought you had to be.well, pureblood or something."  
  
"Maybe you do, but it doesn't do good to judge people by their family history. It's unfair," she said. Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"You're treating me as if I were Malfoy," Ron said, and Hermione nearly dropped her goblet at the mention of Draco's name. "Only now you're nice to him."  
  
"I never said I was nice to him," Hermione responded. "So I waved, big deal."  
  
"Waving is a form of salutation," Harry said. "Normally you wave to a friend."  
  
"Oh please, can we stop talking about Malfoy?" Hermione said. "Honestly, you're acting as if I told you I was transferring to Slytherin."  
  
"Why Slytherin? Because Malfoy's in it?"  
  
"No, because you two would freak out if I went more than you would if I transferred to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff," Hermione responded cynically.  
  
"All right. No more talk about Malfoy."  
  
Hermione looked back at the Slytherin table, expecting to see Draco there, but she didn't. All she saw was a sulking Pansy.  
  
"Where'd he go?" she said, more to herself than to Ron or Harry. They both looked up.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Nobody, I just thought I saw someone that looked like.Krum, or something." Harry's eyebrows shut up so high they disappeared behind his bangs.  
  
"Krum? I wanna see," he said, turning around and looking at the Great Hall. Hermione put a hand to her forehead wearily.  
  
"You know what, I think I'm going to go up to the common room and rest for a bit," said Hermione. Harry whipped around.  
  
"Are you feeling okay? Do you need help getting up there?" he asked hurriedly. Hermione almost smiled.  
  
"No, it's quite all right. I'll see you guys later," she said, and with a small wave, she left the Great Hall. The corridors were empty, except for a few prefects talking in a corner, looking down at a first year, who had hexed his legs off by accident, and they were running away down the hall. Hermione turned and found herself in front of the portrait.  
  
"Wobbleforth," she said, and the portrait swung forward. She stepped inside, was about to flop down onto an armchair, when she gasped. Draco Malfoy was sitting in an armchair, facing her, an amused expression on his face. "Draco," she said weakly. "You're not supposed to be here."  
  
"Being Head Boy has it's advantages," Draco said. "I came here to ask you something."  
  
"Ask away," Hermione said, flopping down into an armchair across from him. He looked cool and composed, but his eyes showed something else: nervousness.  
  
"I was wondering, if you'd accompany me to the Yule Ball." There, he thought. I said it. No point beating around the bush.  
  
"Yule Ball?" Hermione nearly shrieked. "We're not having a Yule Ball." Draco grinned slyly and held up a pamphlet. Hermione read the bold, flashing letters.  
  
"Draco," she said sternly. "Those weren't to be handed out a week from now," she pointed out, glancing at the date in the top corner.  
  
"The Yule Ball is being held on my birthday," Draco offered. "On the twenty-third. Now will you please answer my question?"  
  
"Well I--." But she didn't have a chance to finish, as the portrait door swung open. Without thinking, she grabbed Draco by the arm and pushed him behind a tapestry. Then she hurriedly ran over and sat in an armchair. It was Harry.  
  
"Hey," he said.  
  
"Hello," Hermione said, and she must have looked nervous, because concern fleeted across Harry's face.  
  
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, sitting down next to her. "You seem skittish, and nervous."  
  
"I'm perfectly fine, though I'm touched at your concern." She could see him grinding his teeth.  
  
"I'm glad you're back," he said finally, and he put an arm around her shoulders, and she rested her head on his chest. "You don't know how depressed I've been since you left."  
  
"Well I'm happy to be back too," Hermione responded. Harry looked down at her and kissed her on the top of her head. Hermione smiled softly, gazing up at his face. She thought she heard a noise of impatience coming from the tapestry, but she ignored it. At that very moment, Harry leaned forward and kissed her. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck immediately. She had been longing for this for the past two months, for the touch of his skin, for his voice, for his kisses. He kissed her with gentleness, almost shyness, and it was nothing compared to the overwhelmingly passionate kiss she had shared with Draco earlier that day. Harry seemed to notice her thoughts were somewhere else, because he pulled apart from her.  
  
"Something wrong?" he asked, a confused look on his face. Hermione felt horribly guilty and shrugged.  
  
"It's nothing, nothing at all."  
  
"You look tired," he said softly, trailing a finger down the side of her face and down her neck to her shoulder. Hermione shivered.  
  
"Do I look that bad?" she giggled. "You keep asking me if I'm all right."  
  
"You look different," Harry said truthfully.  
  
"How so?" Hermione asked. The tapestry on the far wall was moving, and she shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Maybe it's not looks," said Harry. "You seem smarter, more experienced."  
  
"I-well, that's half of what I wanted to tell you about, but we can't tall just yet," Hermione said. Harry scowled. "And don't make that face Harry, you know it doesn't work on me."  
  
"That's what you think," Harry grinned. "I've been practicing." (Hermione would never admit how cute he looked when he did that)  
  
"I'm going to go upstairs for a bit," she said loudly, so that Draco could hear. "Get back settled in and stuff."  
  
"Okay, but if you need any help, just ask me," Harry said, his eyes following her movements as she stood up. Hermione trudged up the stairs and entered the girl's dorms. Once she was inside, she let out a sigh of relief and hurried over to the far wall, her hands running along the bricks, until she found what she was looking for. It was a small hole in one of the bricks. She poked her wand inside and muttered, 'Revaleous'. A small door appeared, and Hermione opened it. She had used this door many times to sneak out of the girl's dormitories, particularly when she didn't want to be seen. It allowed her to avoid the stairs-which came in handy, as they were horribly creaky-and to skip the common room. The door opened up just behind the tapestry she had hid Draco in. Hermione entered the tunnel, crouched down low, water dripping off the ceiling. She saw a faint light near the end, and she reached the familiar wooden door. She knocked softly on it, and a shadow broke the light in-between the cracks. Draco had opened the door, and he had a scowl on his face.  
  
"Hey," she said quietly, and she tugged on his shirt collar to pull him inside the dim passageway, shutting the door behind her and turning to face him, the light from the outside illuminating the outline of his face.  
  
"Never again leave me behind a tapestry to watch you and Potter snog," Draco said with finality. Hermione's mouth opened furiously and she glared at him. Draco had something that looked like humor on his face.  
  
"We-did not-snog," said Hermione furiously. "Kiss. It was a kiss."  
  
"Whatever you say," Draco said, in an unconvincing tone. Hermione closed her mouth and turned on her heel, walking down the winding passageway. Draco followed. "And you can't tell Potter about the Training, remember?"  
  
"I-I know that," Hermione said hesitantly. "I was going to ask Dumbledore first, if I could."  
  
"Oh yeah, sure. The man already told you to keep it secret. If word gets out you're an Auror and you're Harry Potter's best friend, then Potter might be in further danger." Draco stopped, a considering expression on his face. "Not that I care or anything." Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, I wouldn't kill him, but.maybe I would, but no, I'm not a murderer-- ." Hermione looked amused. "Of course I wouldn't kill him, I mean.ARH! Forget it."  
  
"Indeed. Now let's go before somebody hears you." She opened the door to the girl's dormitory hallway, and stepped inside quietly. Draco followed, somewhat carelessly. "Now we have to get you--."  
  
"HERMIONE?"  
  
Hermione spun around, a feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach. Ginny was standing in the hallway, her expression livid, her hair giving her the impression that her head was on fire. "Ginny, I can explain--."  
  
"What the hell is Malfoy doing in the girl's dormitories?" Ginny snapped, suddenly becoming aware that she was wearing her pajamas, and she folded her arms with a scowl. Draco was trying very, very hard not to laugh.  
  
"He was just.well, you see--"  
  
"Never you mind that, just get him out of here!" Ginny exclaimed.  
  
"I was helping Hermione here with the inspections," Draco said quickly, although he was composed. "We just finished Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw."  
  
"Inspections?" asked Ginny. "They've never done inspections before." She eyed the two of them with suspicion. "If I were to ask Padma, in Ravenclaw, would she say you were there?"  
  
"Ginny, you're being too inquisitive. Calm down, we'll be out of here in just a few minutes. Come on, er, Draco and let's finish checking the dormitories," said Hermione, nudging Draco in the back. He gave her a disgruntled look and walked down the hall, opening each dorm room door and looking around. Once he had finished checking each door (and after escaping a rabid group of third years), he walked back to Hermione.  
  
"The sixth year dorm was dissatisfying," Draco said, playing along just a little too much, yet he grinned at the peeved expression on Ginny's face. "I suggest you clean up a little better in there."  
  
"Fine. You've done your job, now would you kindly send him out?" Ginny pleaded, edging along the wall.  
  
"Yes, yes. Go on Draco." He began to walk, but Hermione grabbed his arm. "And don't cause any disruptions with Harry," she added as an afterthought. "Oh.and Malfoy I can't."  
  
"Can't what?" Draco asked.  
  
"I can't go with you to the Yule Ball."  
  
Draco stood quite still, his eyes clear, his expression unreadable. "Okay," Draco said, and she thought she heard his voice crack. "I'll see you later then." And he walked out the door.  
  
"The malcontent prat," Ginny muttered, under her breath. Hermione gave her a look of shock.  
  
"What was that all about Ginny? Really, you were rather harsh on him. He was just helping me with a project." Hermione had her hands on her hips, and Ginny went slightly flushed.  
  
"Well I-he was in the girl's dorms, and I panicked!" Ginny replied, unfolding her arms and indicating the doors to her right. "What if he saw.something?" Hermione's eyes went wide, and Ginny put a hand to her forehead. "I don't know, it would have been nicer if you would have given us a warning."  
  
"It was rather unexpected, really," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore-oh God, Dumbledore!" Hermione said suddenly. "He doesn't know we're back. Sorry Gin, but I have to run. I'll be back later though, and we'll talk then." And without a backward glance, she exited the room quickly. When she got downstairs to the common room, she breathed a sigh of relief. Harry had fallen asleep, thus meaning he probably hadn't seen Draco leave the Gryffindor common room. Hermione tiptoed over to the portrait hole and was about to open it, but she heard someone speak.  
  
"I saw Malfoy leave." It was Harry speaking. She turned around. He had his arm over his face, so he couldn't see her. Maybe he sensed her presence. Hermione walked over to the armchair and sat down.  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yeah." He sat up now, indicating the spot where his head had been laying, and she got up and sat down over there, and he laid his head in her lap. "Would you please tell me what's going on? I'm so confused."  
  
Hermione bit her lip reluctantly, stroking his hair absentmindedly. "Well.promise not to tell Ron?" Harry moved his arm away from his face, and she saw a shocked yet determined expression on his face.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"You know how I went to visit my mum?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded. "I didn't actually go see her. In fact, nothing was wrong with her, nothing at all." Harry's face was void of any emotion. "In fact, I went in nearly the opposite direction. I.I went to an Auror Training Camp." Harry lifted his arms up and grabbed her hand, which had been winding strands of his hair around her finger.  
  
"You mean to tell me," he said, looking up into her face, "that this whole time, you've been becoming an Auror?"  
  
"Actually, that's exactly what I'm telling you. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it's just--." She trailed off, Harry still holding her hand. Harry looked at her expectantly, and she continued. "Dumbledore told us not to tell anybody, and I figured that if I did tell you, you wouldn't let me go."  
  
"Hermione, you don't know that," Harry said, his emerald green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Well-maybe you do," he said, grinning. "So I would have been a little hesitant, but it would have ultimately been your decision in the first place."  
  
"There's one other little detail I forgot to mention," said Hermione slowly. "Malfoy went too." This statement instantly brought Harry to attention. He sat up abruptly.  
  
"He what?"  
  
"Now don't get mad, we didn't really do anything," Hermione explained hurriedly. "It was mostly work and no play."  
  
"Were you in separate rooms?" Harry asked. Hermione bit her lip.  
  
"Ahh, well, Dumbledore set the hotel reservation up for us, so we couldn't exactly do anything about it--."  
  
"You didn't," Harry said with finality. "I know you, and you wouldn't have stood for that."  
  
"He's not such a bad guy Harry," Hermione scowled. "I know you two are archenemies, but have you ever talked to him any?"  
  
"Oh yeah, if sod off counts," retorted Harry.  
  
"It doesn't," Hermione snapped, surprised at her own brutality. "You don't know him at all, and you don't want to make an effort to try. He doesn't want to talk to you just as much as you don't want to talk to him. But you two will never grow up if you don't put an end to this silly squabbling."  
  
"I won't do it," Harry said stubbornly, his jaw set. "If he wants to be buddy-buddy with me, like he is with you, then he'll have to make the first move. I've already tried talking to him Hermione, he's just too obstinate to realize it."  
  
"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "Both of you are alike in strange ways." Harry made a face.  
  
"Me and Malfoy? Alike?"  
  
"You're both stubborn," Hermione offered. "And you're both incredibly stupid."  
  
"Stupid? I'm offended Hermione," Harry teased. She playfully slapped his arm.  
  
"All I'm trying to say is that I believe you two could get along, if you could just sit down and have a talk." She sighed again, and Harry's heart pained for her. Hermione stood up, smoothing her jeans out. "I need to talk to Dumbledore, so I'll see you later."  
  
***  
  
"Professor Dumbledore? Are you in here?"  
  
Hermione had arrived at the door to Dumbledore's office, and she was tapping lightly on it. She was about to turn around and leave, when the door opened.  
  
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said warmly, his blue eyes twinkling. "Good of you to drop by. Come in, come in." He held the door open for her, and she stepped in to the beautiful circular room. Hermione took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. He sat down behind the desk, his hands folded. "How was it?"  
  
"It was, er, fascinating," Hermione said. "Draco Malfoy and I passed."  
  
"That's very good to hear," Dumbledore commented. "What have you learned from it?"  
  
"Never keep your back to an entire room?" Hermione offered, grinning weakly. "Professor, you were once an Auror weren't you?"  
  
"I was for only a short period of time, until I decided to become a professor," said Dumbledore. "I taught for nearly sixty years."  
  
"I just came by to tell you that Draco and I were back," Hermione said. "Just in case--."  
  
"Oh I already knew you were back," Dumbledore said, and Hermione started in surprise. "One of my many secrets. Now run along and get settled back into Hogwarts. Oh and one more thing."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Tomorrow, bring Mr. Malfoy and yourself here, so we can discuss the board of defense," Dumbledore reminded her gently. "We have quite a bit of work to do."  
  
"All right Professor," Hermione said, and she stood up and left.  
  
***  
  
"You there, five points from Hufflepuff," Draco said, a huge grin on his face. He was striding down the corridors, feeling better than he had been feeling in days, maybe even weeks. The Hufflepuff cast him a dirty look and promptly stopped hexing his friend into pieces. Draco turned a corner- and walked right into Ron.  
  
"Ow!" they said in unison, as they collided, Ron looking horrified and Draco looking amused.  
  
"Watch it Weasel," Draco retorted, although he was smiling. Ron glared.  
  
"Shut up Malfoy. Have you seen Hermione or Harry anywhere?"  
  
"I think they're up snogging in the dormitories," Draco responded, and Ron looked even more furious. "It's best not to interrupt them."  
  
"They are not!" Ron responded. After a few seconds, however, he added, "Are they really?"  
  
"Oh please Weasley, just when I thought you couldn't get any more thick. Of course they're not snogging, do you really think Potter and Hermione would do that, especially with you around?"  
  
"Geez Malfoy, I'm just asking," said Ron, and he pushed past Draco and took off down the corridors.  
  
"Oh and Weasley!" Draco called after him, and Ron briefly paused. "Tell your sister for me that those pajamas were very, very revealing, ok?" Ron spun around, apoplectic rage all across his face, but Draco had already turned and disappeared.  
  
***  
  
Hermione was utterly and explicably happy to be back to Hogwarts. She and Draco resumed their positions of Head Girl and Boy, and took up the lead on the school's defense board. Every week, they had a meeting, which discussed the school's current state of working. They were also talking about tightening the security, which didn't get them very far, as the Aurors were somewhat reluctant.  
  
"I can't believe that they think this whole Voldemort thing is a hoax," Hermione was telling Draco, one wintry afternoon. "They're just too arrogant to be troubled by a little.little school!"  
  
"Hermione calm down," Draco said calmly. "Just let them warm up to the idea. Besides, this is not a little school, it's huge."  
  
"Be quiet," she responded sardonically. "By the way. When is Dumbledore making the announcement about the Yule Ball?" It pained her to talk about it in front of him, but he showed no change of expression.  
  
"Tonight after dinner. I asked him earlier after the meeting."  
  
"Draco-I."  
  
"No, Hermione. Just.no."  
  
"But you know that--."  
  
"I said," Draco began, through gritted teeth, "no. Just let it alone." Hermione bit her lip, her eyes full of sadness.  
  
"Okay Draco." It was probably fortunate that they decided to drop it, because at that moment, Hermione spotted Harry running up to them.  
  
"Hermione," Harry breathed, doubled over and clutching his side. "Malfoy," he nodded shortly, in Draco's direction, and Draco nodded back. Boys. "Come here, I need to show you something."  
  
"Can it wait? We were just discussing--."  
  
"No-can't wait-need to come-now," said Harry, sucking in great gasps of air. Casting Draco a confused glance, she followed Harry down the corridors. Harry finally stopped in a more deserted one, and he glanced around quickly before plunging his hand inside his robe pockets and bringing out a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Here, read this."  
  
Hermione took the Daily Prophet and read:  
  
DEVESTATION IN DIAGON ALLEY  
  
Just yesterday, on December the fifteenth, a devastating action took place in Diagon Alley. A cloaked group, that appeared to be a group of Death Eaters (top right picture), wandered into Diagon Alley. At first, it seemed like an ordinary day. But only five minutes after their arrival, the cloaked group blew away half of the street with a Destruction Charm, killing six and injuring thirteen. Jonathan Lambert, a twenty-year-old Auror, was sitting at Florene Flortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, when he saw the incident happen. "I was far enough away to not be harmed by the charm, yet close enough so I could see what was going on," he told us. "They moved in a tight pack, the traditional group movement of Death Eaters." To make matters worse, as soon as the chaos had begun, one of the supposed Death Eaters shot the Dark Mark into the sky. Passersby panicked and ran into the shops, turning over stands and disarranging shelves and displays. Diagon Alley today (bottom left) is undergoing reconstruction, and will be open to the public in a week.  
  
"Oh God," said Hermione weakly. "This is horrible."  
  
"It is isn't it?" Harry said bitterly, leaning against the stone wall. "Why would they attack Diagon Alley?"  
  
"I don't know," she replied, looking at the photographs with a sick feeling in her stomach. "But I know Jonathan Lambert."  
  
"You do?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah. He was the Advanced DADA teacher at the Auror training camp. We had dinner once, and he checked in on Draco and I frequently."  
  
"You had dinner?" Harry asked faintly.  
  
"Just a short one, because Draco showed up drunk."  
  
"Drunk?!"  
  
"Calm down Harry," Hermione said quickly. "We're getting off the topic here. My point is what would he be doing in Diagon Alley?"  
  
"There's no law against visiting Diagon Alley," Harry reminded her gently.  
  
"Of course there isn't," she answered distractedly. "It's just.odd."  
  
"Well there you have it," Harry said, folding his arms, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "The Death Eaters strike again. They never quit, do they?"  
  
Hermione looked up at his face. He still had his glasses off, yet his eyes were closed. Hermione didn't see Harry too often without his glasses. They had the effect of making him look younger than he really was, and when he had them off, it surprised Hermione how much older he looked. His hair grew in the same stubborn way, sticking out all over the place, and his scar remained clearly visible against his tanned skin. Quidditch, Hermione thought with a smile. He wasn't the scrawny boy she used to know either. Quidditch had definitely built up his physique, not to mention tanned his skin. Without thinking what she was doing, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Harry opened his eyes, emerald green meeting dark brown.  
  
"What was that for?" he asked, putting his glasses back on.  
  
"No reason," Hermione said, with a small smile.  
  
***  
  
"I have an announcement to make," Dumbledore said. Hermione looked up from her plate. They were in the Great Hall eating dinner, and just as Draco had said, Dumbledore was about to inform them all of the Yule Ball. "This Christmas, we will have a Yule Ball." The Great Hall erupted into cheers and shouting. "It will be held on the twenty-third, so please do not waste time in finding a partner. Be sure to wear dress robes, and no muggle clothes," he said, particularly in the direction of Parvati and Lavender, who scowled. "Also, the Quidditch points stand thus." Dumbledore went on to explain the current standing in Quidditch points. Then he sat down, and at once, everyone began talking, giving the room the sound as if it were alive with bees.  
  
"Alright!" Ron exclaimed, spearing an asparagus with his fork. "A Yule Ball!"  
  
"I thought you hated them Ron," Hermione said with a giggle.  
  
"But now he actually has someone to go with," Harry whispered in her ear, and she ducked beneath the table laughing.  
  
"Of course it's Rowena, right?" Hermione asked, once she had come into view from beneath the table.  
  
"Well," Ron began, turning red. "I'm going to ask her--."  
  
"You're going to take me to the ball right?" someone asked behind him. Ron spun around and saw Rowena.  
  
"If you'll have me," said Ron. In response, Rowena bent down and kissed Ron soundly on the lips. Harry made a face and promptly turned around and became interested at the Staff Table.  
  
"If I'll have you, honestly," Rowena scowled. "Of course I'll have you."  
  
"So Hermione," said Harry, clearing his throat and turning around to face her. "Do you want to go?"  
  
"I wouldn't miss it," said Hermione.  
  
"No silly, do you want to go with me," Harry said, pointing to himself. Hermione grinned.  
  
"Sure I'll go with you," she responded, taking a bite out of her roll. "I wouldn't go with anyone else anyway." This didn't encourage Harry any.  
  
"You're not going with me just because I'm the only one who will ask you is it?" Harry asked. Hermione nearly dropped her spoon.  
  
"Of course not!" she cried out. "Harry, you're treating me as if I'm cheating you behind your back or something," Hermione said, poking him in the ribs.  
  
"I was only asking," was his defensive response. "I have to be inquisitive, otherwise I'll be labeled as the Boy Who Never Asked."  
  
"Or the Boy Who Asked Too Much," Hermione said thoughtfully, and Harry glared at her, although he couldn't keep from smiling.  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll stop asking so many questions. Just checking."  
  
"You're so funny Harry, and you just don't know it," Hermione grinned, shaking her head. Harry shrugged.  
  
"I guess I know about it now, don't I?" he said sarcastically, and he earned himself a bagel in the face.  
  
***  
  
"Ginny? I have a question to ask you," Hermione said, flopping down on the younger girl's bed. Ginny looked up from her Potions homework. Hermione looked troubled.  
  
"Sure, ask away," Ginny replied, setting down her quill and closing her Potions book. Hermione bit her lip, glancing around the room nervously. "Go on Herm, whatever it is can't be that bad."  
  
"Alright," said Hermione, taking a deep breath. "I have this, er, friend, and she's in a bit of a fix. You see, she has this friend, and he also happens to be her boyfriend. Well she went away for a little bit with her boyfriend's archenemy. And over that period of time, she did a bit of.untrustworthy stuff."  
  
"Right," Ginny said slowly. "What kind of untrustworthy stuff?" Mentally, Ginny was thinking that Hermione had been stupid enough to think that she, Ginny, would actually believe her.  
  
"Untrustworthy as in flirting with the archenemy, possibly even kissing him. God he's a good kisser," she added to herself, and Ginny nearly cried out. "Basically stuff the girl wouldn't do around her boyfriend."  
  
"Hermione, I'm not stupid okay?" Ginny said, and Hermione flushed scarlet.  
  
"I-I know that Ginny, nobody said you were," she began, trying to find the right words.  
  
"You're talking about Malfoy and Harry right? And you kissed Malfoy?! Damn."  
  
"Ginny, you're not helping!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. "I really need your advice."  
  
"I really don't see what you're asking me," Ginny said. "You told me about the whole untrustworthy thing, and about Harry and stuff, but why are you so disturbed?"  
  
"Guilt. It's basically pure guilt. I did kiss Draco, but I shoved him away later. Actually he kissed me, twice, and one time he was drunk. I was drunk the second time."  
  
"Okay, I think I have the solution," Ginny announced proudly, and Hermione looked flabbergasted.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yup. You, alcohol, and Malfoy don't mix."  
  
"Ginny!" Hermione yelled, and she promptly attacked her with a pillow. Ginny, after landing a few good hits on Hermione with her stuffed bear, laughed. "I'm sorry Hermione, but it seems every time you kissed or were kissed by Malfoy, one of you were drunk."  
  
"But being drunk doesn't have anything to do with it at the moment," Hermione protested. "Right now, I'm thinking of how I should break the news to Harry."  
  
"Well technically, you were a traitor and a double-crosser. But if you don't say anything to Harry, it's not lying. If he asks, then tell him the truth. Now I'm not saying to keep silent. If it were me, I'd tell him."  
  
"You think so?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. Ginny nodded, her long red hair bouncing.  
  
"Definitely. Now I have a question for you."  
  
"Go for it."  
  
"What does Malfoy kiss like?" she asked, and Hermione turned so red that Ginny could practically feel the heat emanating from Hermione's face.  
  
"Virginia Weasley!" Hermione shrieked, and Ginny giggled.  
  
"Come on, I'm dying to know. I've got this bet going with Anna."  
  
"Well, it was.oh I can't say it, Harry would kill me."  
  
"Just tell him I used Veritaserum on you or something. Now come on, spill," Ginny asked, in a girly teenage spirit.  
  
"It was.intoxicating," Hermione began. "And.uhh, very, very.overwhelming."  
  
"Enough big words. What did he taste like? Were his lips smooth? Did he do any button-fumbling?"  
  
"Button fumbling?" Hermione echoed.  
  
"You know, as in shirt buttons?"  
  
"Ginny I refuse to answer that," Hermione said sternly, and Ginny looked vaguely put out.  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: Kissing, kissing, and more kissing. Or should I say snogging? This chapter was bittersweet, I must say so myself. There's the dilemma with Draco and Harry. Things are just starting to cook up a bit. Next chapter: expect the Yule Ball, an interesting scene involving some mysterious people, and Hermione gets stood up. Or does she? Cardiometriosis is completely made up, of course. I don't know where I coined it from. I heard a similar word and remembered it. Oh, and for those of you who were wondering, Draco does have smooth lips. ;) 


	2. Chapter 7

Don't forget to insert word!!!!!!!!!! The Makings of an Auror Chapter Seven -------------------------  
  
Two weeks later, the Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins, so at 11:30, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry all made their way down to the dungeons, along with their fellow classmates.  
  
"Why does the slimy git always make us have potions with the Slytherins?" Ron said angrily, carefully stepping away from the walls, as an enormous spider was hanging from a web, which was dangerously close to Ron's head.  
  
"Because he can favor them over us," Harry replied bitterly, now pushed against the far side of the dungeon walls because of Ron, and he gave him a little nudge. Ron made a noise of impatience.  
  
"He is such a git," he repeated. Hermione cast him a silencing look, and she opened the doors to the dungeons, stepping inside with Ginny, Harry and Ron bringing up the rear. The dungeon was just as she had remembered it (after all, it was only two months she had been away). The stone walls were icy to the touch, and frost lined the rims of their cauldrons. The Slytherins sat respectively on their side of the room, the Gryffindors on the other. Snape was sitting at his desk; a menacing look on his face as the Gryffindors stepped inside and sat down, rubbing their legs and arms. Once everyone had been seated, Snape stood up, walking slowly and carefully to the center of the room. He looked at the Slytherin side of the room, and then at the Gryffindors' side.  
  
"Well. Everyone seems to be present, so we can get right to work. What are the five ingredients in a Shrinking Potion?" he asked, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry stared right back at Snape, a defying look on his face.  
  
"Caterpillar, Daisy Roots, Leech Juice, Rat Spleen, and Shrivelfig," Harry announced, with perfect memory. Snape had a disappointed look on his face, but he quickly replaced it with a smirk.  
  
"You listed them incorrectly. If you add the Leech Juice before the Rat Spleen, your potion will explode, effectively blowing you clear to Albania," said Snape smoothly. Harry flexed his fingers menacingly and Hermione laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Mr. Goyle," Snape said suddenly, turning to face the Slytherin side of the room. "Since you failed potions last year, I wouldn't expect you to know the answer to this question, but it's a stab in the dark. When should Fluxweed be picked?"  
  
Goyle's face contorted into immense concentration, and he directed his gaze somewhere over Snape's head, giving him a deranged look. "Well, it has to be, ahh picked when you, uhh, find some," he finished, looking proud of himself. Snape shook his head sadly.  
  
"Mr. Goyle, that is incorrect, but I will give five points to Slytherin for your efforts," Snape responded. The Slytherins cast a smug look at the Gryffindors, who scowled back. Harry was one-hundred percent sure that Snape wouldn't have given him five points for his efforts. "Now anyone, who can tell me what another name for a strengthening potion is?" Hermione raised her hand before anyone else did. Snape looked at her coolly before turning sharply on his heel. "Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Draco looked wildly up from his desk at the inquiring professor. "Yes professor Snape?"  
  
"The answer. Give me the answer," Snape said. Draco looked amused.  
  
"I believe Hermione raised her hand first," Draco said simply, folding his arms on the desk and looking up at the professor innocently. Snape made a noise of impatience.  
  
"But I called on you," the professor continued.  
  
"I hadn't even raised my hand," Draco pointed out, and Snape had the grace to look embarrassed.  
  
"Oh, yes. Of course. Ms. Granger?" said Snape hurriedly, turning to Hermione, who looked taken aback.  
  
"A strengthening potion is sometimes called the Drought of Strength," said Hermione, assuming her know-it-all air. Snape scowled.  
  
"That's right," he snapped.  
  
***  
  
After class, the students were all whispering to each other. Draco caught a group of girls saying 'He called her Hermione!' and 'Draco Malfoy, sticking up for Granger?' This irritated him, and he cleared his throat loudly. The students shrieked and turned to face him nervously.  
  
"Is there a problem?" Draco asked carefully, fingering his head boy badge with a calculating look on his face. The students audibly gulped.  
  
"Oh no Draco," said one of the girls quietly, her cheeks turning pink. "We were talking about-the Yule Ball, that's all," she explained hurriedly. Draco heard a 'God he's hot, I wonder if he'd date a fifth year.'  
  
"Well on with you then, no need to crowd the doorway," Draco said impatiently, waving a dismissing hand at the girls, and they sped off without a backward glance. Smiling to himself, he turned and found himself face to face with Hermione.  
  
"Hello," she smiled. "Care to walk?"  
  
"Sure," Draco replied wearily, walking down the corridor with her and matching her slow and casual pace. Hermione was very silent, her head turned so she was looking out across the grounds.  
  
"That was nice of you," she said thoughtfully, after a moment of contemplation. Draco looked at her curiously. Her eyes were fixed on the stone floor and wisps of brown hair were coming out of her bun.  
  
"What did I do?" Draco asked, and Hermione brushed her hair out of her eyes with irritation.  
  
"Well you stood up to Snape, first of all. And I know it's no heroic feat or anything, but you also did something you've never done before, and called me Hermione in front of all the Slytherins and Gryffindors." She was looking up at him now, her eyes softening slightly, but the edges remained hard. Draco nodded slowly.  
  
"It wasn't really anything," he assured her. "Snape's a git."  
  
"I know he's a git, but it still.I don't know. For some reason it made me happy."  
  
He was about to wave this aside with his hand, but she caught it in hers. Her fingers were cold, probably from the freezing temperature of the dungeons, and Draco's were warm, from having been keeping them in his pockets. She glanced down at his fingers. They were oddly white, compared to her tanned skin. Her nails were perfectly straight and smooth, his rough and bitten. She ran her fingers down over the top of his hand, tracing the odd scar at his wrist. Draco looked at her wrist and noticed the watch he had given her that night at the hotel. She's never taken it off. He then looked bemused. Once she realized how odd this would look to anyone walking down the corridor, she released his hand, balling her own into a fist.  
  
"Hermione, are you sure you're all right?" Draco asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"What is it about me that makes you people think I'm mortally wounded?" Hermione asked, but a small smile tugged at her lips. Draco shrugged.  
  
"You're different," Draco responded carelessly, and Hermione's eyes widened. She remembered what Harry had told her. You look different, he had said. Maybe it's not looks. You seem smarter, more experienced.  
  
"Well you're different too," she said awkwardly. "You don't call me Granger, or Mudblood anymore." Draco winced as she said the word Mudblood.  
  
"Hermione, about the whole Mudblood thing--."  
  
"It's all right," she said quietly. "I called you a few things I shouldn't have either."  
  
"But Mudblood is really offensive, and that was way before I knew you better. I'm sorry about all that."  
  
"I'd hug you right now, but Ron and Harry would kill me," Hermione grinned. To her surprise, Draco looked shifty.  
  
"I've got Herbology next, so I won't see you until later tonight. I'll talk to you then," he replied, and he turned and exited through a large wooden door. Hermione sighed.  
  
"I just don't understand him."  
  
***  
  
"Hermione! Just the woman I was looking for!" said a happy voice. It was Lavender and Parvati, and they were in the seventh year dormitory.  
  
"Oh, hello Lavender, Parvati," she said, nodding in their direction. Lavender and Parvati looked at each other with identical looks of eagerness on their faces. Hermione gulped.  
  
"Draco Malfoy seemed pretty hot today, didn't he?" Parvati said. Hermione looked blank.  
  
"H-hot?"  
  
"Yes, hot. As in cute, attractive, gorgeous--."  
  
"Please spare me," Hermione groaned.  
  
"Anyway, we saw you in the hallway," Lavender continued. "You, holding his hand, looking all star-struck." Hermione's mouth went open. "Now you don't need to explain it to us, we understand perfectly. All you have to do now is break it to Harry easily. Men have fragile egos."  
  
"Break what to Harry?" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"You and Draco are an item now, aren't you?" Parvati asked, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. Hermione dropped her Arithmancy book on her toe and cried out, knocking into Parvati, who caught her rather unexpectedly.  
  
"I am not going out with Draco!" she hissed, picking up her Arithmancy book and turning decidedly pink. Lavender giggled.  
  
"Look, she's blushing. How cute!" she squealed, and Parvati erupted into a fit of giggles. Hermione yearned to throw her Arithmancy book in Lavender's face, but she resisted and instead slammed it onto a desk. This ceased the giggles.  
  
"I-am-not-going-out-with-Draco," she enunciated carefully, as if they were mental. Which they are, she added unkindly. "What makes you say that anyway?"  
  
"Oh please Hermione, it is soooo obvious!" Parvati announced. "He looks at you all the time during class, he walks you to your lessons, you guys eat breakfast together, and to top it off, you're going with him to the Yule Ball."  
  
"First of all, he does not stare at me," Hermione reminded her.  
  
"That's because whenever you stare at him, which is quite frequently, I must say so myself, he turns away," Lavender responded.  
  
"Second of all," Hermione interrupted, continuing as if she hadn't heard Lavender, "so what if he eats breakfast with me, or walks me to my classes?"  
  
"He's never done it before!" Parvati said in a sing-song voice.  
  
"And third, we are not, and I repeat are NOT going to the Yule Ball together. I'm going with Harry," said Hermione firmly. Parvati and Lavender froze.  
  
"Harry? You're going with Harry? Dammit, why do you always get the hot guys?" Parvati shrieked.  
  
"Harry is singular. Please elaborate on what you mean by guys."  
  
"Draco. He hangs on your every move, every word Hermione," Lavender informed her gently. "He doesn't look at you with disgust anymore. It's like he's seeing you in a whole new light. As if he'd never noticed what you really were Hermione, a girl. Of course we've known you were a girl," Lavender added. "How could you not be? You're seventeen. Every guy notices a girl's figure." Hermione had a sickened look on her face, and she sat down weakly at the foot of her bed. "Which is why we've come to the conclusion that whether you like it or not, you're a walking guy magnet."  
  
"I am not."  
  
"You are! With proper training, you'll have Brad Pitt on his knees begging to marry you," Parvati said.  
  
"Brad Pitt? Proper training? Lavender, you're not making sense."  
  
"Proper training as in new clothes, new hair, and makeup. When was the last time you used lip gloss?"  
  
"Yesterday," Hermione retorted. Lavender looked skeptical. "Besides, I don't want new clothes, or new hair, or new makeup. If I'm already, as you say, a walking guy magnet, then I'm obviously doing the right thing, and you're not." She grinned at the astonished looks on Parvati and Lavender's faces. She patted their shoulders sympathetically. "Now excuse me, I've got to get to the library. Talk to you later." She strode past them, book bag slung over her shoulder, Parvati and Lavender watching her leave with open mouths.  
  
***  
  
"Hey Ron," Harry mumbled, his voice muffled through his pillow. He was lying in bed on his stomach, his face in his pillow. Ron didn't need to ask how Harry knew it had been him, he just closed the dormitory door.  
  
"Hallo Harry," Ron responded, pulling up a chair and setting it beside Harry's bed, and he sat down. Harry turned over on his side so he could see Ron. "What's the matter?" Ron asked curiously. Harry looked thoughtful for a minute before shrugging.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's a change in the earth's atmosphere. Maybe it's--."  
  
"Hermione?" Ron interrupted. Harry paused.  
  
"Maybe. I don't know why I'm Mr. Gloom Guy today. I should be feeling happy, because tonight is the Yule Ball. And I'm going with Hermione. Tell me why I'm so depressed Ron!" Harry groaned, burying his face back in his pillow.  
  
"Mood swings?" Ron offered weakly. "Guys have them too you know." Harry mumbled something incoherently that sounded like heresy.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Jealousy," Harry practically yelled.  
  
"Jealousy? You're not jealous of Hermione are you? Look, just because she has long pretty hair--."  
  
"Ron, I'm jealous of her spending so much time with Malfoy," said Harry bitterly. Ron looked shocked and he closed his mouth.  
  
"Ahh, that explains a lot of things," Ron said carefully. "Look, I don't mean to be stupid or anything, but she used to spend a lot of time with me, and you were never jealous then," he pointed out. Harry made a noise of impatience.  
  
"But you were my friend Ron. I didn't hate you. Well, maybe in fourth year, but that's not the point. I'm not sure I hated you then."  
  
"Harry, get to the point," Ron responded.  
  
"Oh yes, right. The point is.uh, well.I hate Malfoy!" Harry said these last words with finality. Ron just sort of gawked at him. "I mean, I hate him, and I hate that he's always with Hermione, and I hate how he asks her to eat breakfast with him, and I hate it when he walks her to class, and I hate it when she smiles at him, and I hate it when he smiles back--"  
  
"Harry, that has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," Ron said firmly. "Hey look, man. Have you been drinking or anything? Because you're a bit tyrannical today," Ron warned him.  
  
"I don't drink," scowled Harry, and Ron held up a defensive hand.  
  
"I know you normally don't, but I was curious. I know you also don't usually have this frantic worry of Hermione cheating behind your back. She's a good person Harry, and she'd let you know if something was going on." Harry looked up into his best friend's face.  
  
"Yeah.yeah you're right Ron. I'm such an idiot."  
  
"Pillock is more like it," Ron offered. Harry threw a pillow at him, and Ron caught it reflexively. "But you're still my best friend, even though you're stupid, and crazy, and childish, and--."  
  
"Alright Ron, I get the picture. You're still my best friend too of course, even though you have a temper, an anger management problem--."  
  
"Hey, I don't go around chucking 'Potter Really Stinks' badges at people, do I?" Ron grinned. Harry looked embarrassed.  
  
"Sorry about that," he mumbled quietly, but Ron took his meekness as an advantage to launch a pillow back at him, and it hit him squarely in the face. "Ron!" Harry yelled. But he was still grinning.  
  
"Now come on, let's get ready for the Yule Ball."  
  
"It's only seven o'clock, and the ball doesn't start until 8:30," Harry pointed out.  
  
"Well, the girls always get dressed way before us, and they look way better than us guys. I think that's saying something."  
  
***  
  
Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, his Arithmancy book in his hands. Despite the open book in front of him, he was finding it hard to concentrate. The common room was filled with chattering people, mostly girls, who were either waiting for their dates, still getting ready for the ball, or making last minute preparations. Draco had dressed in his dark green satin robes, with a large clasp at the throat. He had worn his more expensive gloves (then again nearly everything he owned was expensive). Tucked under his robes and inside his black shirt was the ring Hermione had given to him, with the silver chain. He hadn't taken it off since she had given it to him. He was about to stand up and go upstairs to the dormitories when somebody placed an elegant gloved hand on his arm.  
  
"Hello Pansy," Draco said wearily, not even bothering to turn around. She had been pestering him since the announcement of the Yule Ball to allow her to be his date, but he had flat out refused.  
  
"You know Draco, it's not too late to let me be your date," she said in an icy voice. Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"For the hundredth time Pansy, I am not going with you."  
  
Pansy scowled and spun around. "Flint! Over here," she grumbled. Marcus Flint's younger brother Mark (interesting name, :p) came over. "You're going to the ball with me." Mark looked astounded.  
  
"You really mean it?" he asked doubtfully. Pansy looked impatient, and she checked her watch, irritated.  
  
"Of course I mean it," she snapped. "Come on, let's go." And Mark, looking a great deal happier, strode out of the room with a disgusted Pansy. Draco shook his head, something like a smile forming on his face. Sighing, he stood up, checking his watch as well. It was 8:15, so he might as well go down to the Great Hall. Draco hadn't picked anyone as his date (despite the innumerable girls who had begged and pleaded with him to let them be his date). He figured it would be better off that way, as he probably wouldn't pay much attention to the girl he would have taken. He would have been too preoccupied with somebody.else.  
  
The corridors were crowded, mostly with first, second, and third years, who were lined up and trying to get a glimpse of the Great Hall. Older students were there as well, dressed in many different colors of robes. Draco even swore he saw Snape wearing pink. He joined the line of students, leaned against the stone wall and closed his eyes.  
  
"Malfoy?" someone asked in disbelief. Draco opened his eyes, looking in the direction in which the voice had come from. It was Ginny.  
  
"Oh, Weasley," he said. Ginny was holding Dean Thomas' arm, a look of utter incredulity on her face. Her red hair was pulled up into a braid, which was then twisted into an elegant bun.  
  
"Where's your date Malfoy?" she asked, her voice dripping with scorn.  
  
"I don't have one," was his short and simple reply. Ginny nearly fell over.  
  
"What do you mean you don't have one? You always have a date," Ginny remarked. Dean was looking shifty, and he was glancing at the doors to the Great Hall. Draco rolled his eyes, folding his arms.  
  
"I don't want a date this year. Besides, I really don't like dancing anyway, so what use would a girl be?" he responded.  
  
"I-well, there's always-oh Malfoy you're such a jerk!" she retorted childishly, and Draco looked vaguely surprised. Ginny threw her hands up in the air and stalked to the doors of the Great Hall, an awkward Dean following. Draco fought the urge to smile and resumed his leaning against the wall position. So far, he had officially pissed off two people that evening: Pansy Parkinson and Ginny Weasley. Who else to mess with?  
  
He didn't have much time to ponder this thought, as the doors to the Great Hall opened, letting the crowded corridor fill with a brilliant display of lights. Draco shielded his eyes with his arm briefly, and when he lowered his arm, he got a view of the dining hall. It was decorated in an elaborate fashion of a nineteenth century ballroom. The tables, which were usually in the middle of the room, were lined against the walls, leaving a single table at the end of the room, with a long row of platters filled with food. A stage had been set up, yet nothing was on it.  
  
Draco walked over to the food table and picked up an empty glass, filling it with butterbeer. And then someone spoke, in a voice so familiar that he didn't even have to think on whom it belonged to. "Hermione?" he said, turning around. It was indeed Hermione. She had been talking to Harry. At first, he almost thought it wasn't her, because she looked so.different. She wore robes of dark green that were almost identical to Harry's. Her hair was flowing down her back, and she was smiling, holding on to Harry's arm as if he were the world's protector. Which, Draco thought bitterly, he was. At that moment, Hermione turned around and caught his gaze, and she smiled. Draco weakly smiled back (if you could call it a smile). He took a seat on one of the chairs that had been set up. Hermione looked like she was trying to motion him over to her, but Draco pretended not to notice it.  
  
"Hello Mr. Malfoy," said a familiar voice.  
  
"Hello professor Snape," Draco replied shortly. The professor-who was now, Draco noticed, wearing not only pink robes, but they changed various colors- sat down next to him.  
  
"I see you do not have a date," Snape said tonelessly. Draco clenched his fists. Why was it that all of a sudden the wizarding world was entirely interested in his love life?  
  
"I chose not to have a date. Besides, I hate dancing," said Draco. Snape looked skeptical, and Draco hid a grin. "You don't have one either."  
  
Professor Snape looked shocked and he pretended to be offended. "Teachers do not have dates Mr. Malfoy. One exception is Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall." He looked furious now as he watched both professors striding around the room, arm in arm.  
  
"Ahh, I see," Draco smirked, and the professor cleared his throat.  
  
"It doesn't matter," he said shortly. "Anyway I must be going. Enjoy yourself." And Snape stood up and crossed over to the other side of the room. Draco shook his head in silent laughter, downing the rest of his butterbeer. Just then, two young wizards stepped into the room and climbed up onto the stage. Immediately, girls around the room broke into giggles, and some of them were screaming 'Oh my God.it's them!' Draco was about to believe that these were terrible dark wizards until they brought out their wands, pointed them at their own throats, and muttered a spell Draco recognized to be Sonorus. Oh I see, he thought. Wizarding boy band or something. Seconds later, the wizards began singing a quick tune, invisible instruments accompanying their voices. Everyone got up to dance, leaving Draco and a few other unfortunate people sitting on the chairs alone. Draco spotted Hermione and Harry, who were dancing almost directly in front of him-although they didn't notice it. Hermione laughed as Harry dipped her quickly, nearly dropping her as he tripped over his own feet. Hermione noticed this, but she didn't seem to care.  
  
And for the record, Draco was feeling jealous.  
  
***  
  
"Ahh Harry, be careful," Hermione warned him, as Harry tried to spin her around but she was knocked into a Ravenclaw.  
  
"Sorry Herm," Harry said quickly, and Hermione grinned. Harry was a terrible dancer (she would never, ever tell him that though) and his efforts were definitely pleasing. But the pain in her toe was growing stronger, as Harry kept stepping on it.  
  
"Here Harry," she said, stopping him suddenly. "Why don't you hold on to me like this," Hermione said, taking his hand and putting it on her waist, "and the other like this, and try moving your feet like this." Harry copied her actions, and he audibly gulped.  
  
"Are you sure?" Harry asked her nervously, as he looked down at his newly positioned feet.  
  
"Of course I'm sure. Now start dancing."  
  
Harry moved his feet the way Hermione had shown him, and in no time at all, he was whisking her around the room. Surprised at his own success, he dipped her again, effectively surprising Hermione.  
  
"That's much better Harry," Hermione commented, as he proceeded to impress her with his suddenly acquired dancing skills.  
  
"I'm dancing," he said in disbelief, and Hermione laughed, throwing her head back as he spun her around twice. "I'm actually dancing! Do you know how many lessons I've taken?" He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I mean, lessons? What lessons?"  
  
"Harry, it doesn't matter," Hermione reassured him gently. "All that matters is that you're here with me right now." Harry smiled at her.  
  
"I'm happy you're here too," he said, bringing her arms around his neck. She entwined her fingers together and rested her hands against the back of his neck. Harry leaned closer to her, and their noses were touching. Hermione was about to kiss him when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She unlocked her fingers and turned around. To her surprise, Draco was standing there, looking cool and composed.  
  
"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked coolly. Draco was unmoved by this display of obvious hatred.  
  
"I was wondering if you'd let me borrow Miss Granger for a dance or two," Draco asked calmly. Harry went into a fit of outrage.  
  
"You most certainly--," he began, glaring daggers at the blonde boy, but Hermione laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"-can. You most certainly can," she finished delicately for Harry, and he turned his emerald eyes on her. When she gazed up into them, there was confusion and disappointment in them.  
  
"Alright then," Harry said quietly, stepping back and allowing Draco to take hold of her. And they began to dance.  
  
"Hello," Draco smiled, looking down at her. Hermione grinned despite herself.  
  
"That was rather unexpected," Hermione commented, as he led her around the dance floor. Draco looked mildly amused.  
  
"What do you mean?" he said lightly, dipping her and bringing her up harder than he had intended to. She bumped ungracefully against his chest. Their eyes met briefly before Hermione turned her head.  
  
"You asking me to dance," she responded carefully, looking everywhere but his eyes.  
  
"It's not that big of a deal. It's just a dance or two," said Draco. "Besides, this moment is going to be added to my list of 'Ways That I Really, Really Pissed Potter Off'," he grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes and Draco laughed genially. "Come off it Hermione, I didn't ask you to dance just because of Potter."  
  
Hermione suddenly stopped, and Draco stopped as well. Her eyes were locked to his gray ones, her expression soft and inquiring. "Then why did you ask me to dance?" she asked quietly. Draco looked blank.  
  
"Do I have to have a reason?" he asked, and Hermione stared back at him. "I mean, I didn't ask you just because of that, not that I didn't have a reason, and not that I had one-ahh never mind," he said suddenly, taking her again and dancing. "So I had a sudden caprice to dance with somebody."  
  
"And of all people, me," Hermione said, more to herself than to him. This time, Draco stopped.  
  
"Would you rather I not dance with you?" he asked without warning. Hermione blushed and spluttered, looking for some excuse that would keep him with her. Draco smirked, drawing her closer to him and matching the music's slow pace. Despite his derisive attitude towards her wanting to dance with him, Hermione felt somewhat at peace in his arms. His scent was of cool summer rain, mingled with the smell of cologne. Funny, Hermione thought to herself, how I'd never noticed how good he smelled.  
  
***  
  
Draco desperately tried to calm his racing heart. He had asked Hermione Granger to dance with him, surprising himself, Potter, and Hermione. He had no idea why he was so nervous. Her being this close to him had never made him jumpy before. But the way she looked up at him occasionally, when she thought he wasn't looking, was enough to make any man edgy. And God she smelled good. Like cinnamon and white roses mixed together with Christmas snow. Draco was also hoping that she wasn't close enough to feel his frantic heartbeats. She wants me to dance with her, he added, trying to boost his ego somewhat. Draco did spot Harry in the corner, his arms folded, a contemptuous scowl on his face. This made Draco feel a little better. Just a little.  
  
"Draco?" Hermione asked, in a voice that made him feel intoxicated. Intoxicated? What the hell is going on, he thought wildly.  
  
"Yes?" he said sharply.  
  
"You realize you've been dancing with me for the past four dances, right?" Hermione pointed out. Draco felt himself turn red, something he normally didn't do.  
  
"Of course I realized that. Potter's just been too lazy to come over here and stop us," he responded haughtily. Some of the intoxicated feeling was wearing off, and he became aware of his surroundings again. Granger always knew how to ruin a perfectly good moment.  
  
"He's being polite," Hermione snapped.  
  
"And I could just feel the love radiating from him as he said the word Malfoy," Draco added sharply. "I don't like him, he doesn't like me. And when I steal his girlfriend and dance longer than promised, he doesn't do anything about it? I think that's his problem, not mine," Draco said.  
  
"Get off your high horse and get closer down to earth, Malfoy," she said, saying his name with something that sounded like disrespect. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had seized her shoulders, roughly drawn her against him, and kissed her. Hermione went rigid, and she didn't move as Draco continually kissed her, with a furious amount of passion. Hermione couldn't seem to stop her arms as they wound their way up to his hair. It was as smooth as silk, and she ran her fingers through it as she kissed him back, every rational thought fleeing from her mind with every touch of his skin. Draco's hands went down her arms and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as possible. Hermione could already feel practically every inch of his body, so it was quite impossible for them to be any closer, but she didn't care. In the back if her mind, something was telling her to stop, but she didn't care. All that she cared about was what was happening right at that moment: Draco kissing her, and the feel of his skin against hers.  
  
-THWACK-  
  
Draco jerked violently forward, and he was forced to break the kiss. He was clutching the back of his head and he muttered some very colorful curse words that Hermione had never even heard before. He plunged his hand into his robe pocket and drew out his wand, spun around, and pointed it at-  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked, sounding shocked and frightened at the same time. Harry was standing a few feet away from them, his wand raised, apoplectic rage written all over his face. She followed the direction in which his wand was pointing and she saw he had hexed a bench and flew it into the back of Draco's head. Oh no.  
  
"Potter," Draco growled warningly. But Harry wasn't listening.  
  
"What the hell is going on here?" he said dangerously, his voice lower than Hermione had ever heard it before. The look he was giving her wasn't one she particularly liked. It was like a mixture of coldness and hatred. And he was looking at her.  
  
"Harry--," Hermione began desperately, stepping out from behind Draco's shadow. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, enough for her to notice. She gulped, her palms sweaty.  
  
"Shut up," he told her harshly.  
  
"But if you would only--,"  
  
"I said shut up!" he yelled, his voice cracking. Hermione saw he was shaking, shaking so hard that he could hardly stand. Then he slowly raised his wand, and Hermione was truly scared. But Harry merely dropped it, turned on his heel, and walked out of the Dining Hall.  
  
"What is going on here?" a voice demanded. Hermione blinked through her teary eyes and looked in the direction the voice had come from. Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick were standing around them, all looking horribly menacing.  
  
"Nothing happened Professor," said Draco, in a voice quite unlike his own. "Nothing at all."  
  
"Well then explain this!" Snape demanded, pointing at the upturned bench and the blood from Draco's head, which was on his hand as well. Draco looked at the doors in which Harry had walked through, and then back at the Professors.  
  
"I tripped," Draco responded calmly, "and hit my head. Honestly, Professor. Nothing happened here."  
  
"You-you tripped?" Professor McGonagall repeated in an astonished voice. Draco raised one eyebrow, and Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "That's not the point. Professor Flitwick, please escort Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing. As for Miss Granger," the professor continued, "she has had no harm done to her. You may go up to your common room for the rest of the evening." Hermione watched, open mouthed, as the tiny Professor Flitwick motioned for Draco to follow him to the hospital wing.  
  
Hermione didn't waste any time at all getting up to the common room. She was half-anxious and half-worried about going up there. What if Harry was there? What if he wasn't? Would that mean anything? Hermione stopped just outside the portrait hole and closed her eyes, trying to envision what it might have looked like to Harry, seeing her kissing Draco. She succeeded, slapped a hand to her forehead, and turned to the portrait hole. But instead of seeing the Fat Lady, she saw Harry, and he was holding his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map. None of them made a move: Harry, standing stock still, one hand on the handle of the portrait, the other clutching his father's robe, and Hermione, hand still at her forehead, eyes wide. Harry made the first move. He stepped down from the ledge of the wall and walked briskly past her, not even bothering to hold the portrait open for her, and it slammed shut against the wall.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione called out, turning around to try and see him, but he was gone. Invisibility cloak, she told herself miserably, and she opened the portrait hole and stepped inside.  
  
***  
  
"Madame Pomfrey, I'm fine," Draco said, trying once again to plead with the stern mistress of the Hospital Wing. She had repaired Draco's head, but she firmly believed that he had knocked himself silly.  
  
"Look at you. If you were sane at this moment, you wouldn't be trying to leave this hospital wing," Madame Pomfrey told him harshly, and she placed both hands on his chest and pushed him down onto a bed. Draco stumbled, his knees meeting the fluffy mattress, and he sat down reluctantly. "You should probably stay here overnight," Madame Pomfrey was saying, and Draco furiously opened his mouth to protest. "And in the morning, if you're feeling better, you may leave."  
  
"But I feel just fine," Draco repeated stubbornly. Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly and handed him a pair of light blue pajamas. Then, she walked briskly over to a cabinet filled with sickly green looking liquids and brought out a large beaker.  
  
"Change into these and drink this. I'll be back in a few minutes with some chocolate, and when I get back, you'd better have drunken all of that," Madame Pomfrey said. She strode out of the room, and he heard a faint click, a sign she had locked her office door.  
  
Draco, cursing Harry the whole time, changed into the starchy pajamas and sat down on the bed, eyeing the beaker with the green liquid warily. He was about to pick it up and drink it when he spotted a spider scurrying across his bedside table. Checking to make sure Madame Pomfrey wasn't anywhere near, he stuck a finger into the green liquid. It was unpleasantly thick, and he tried not to imagine what it would feel like going down his own throat. He instead dropped a bit of the liquid onto the spider's head, and sat back to watch. The spider stopped suddenly, flipped over on it's back, and began snoring.  
  
"Sleeping potion," Draco said disdainfully. He heard Madame Pomfrey's footsteps and her singing, and he quickly grabbed the beaker and emptied it into the trashcan beside the table. He then set it on the bedside table, climbed underneath the bed sheets, and closed his eyes, just before Madame Pomfrey opened the door.  
  
"I've brought you-ahh, fast asleep already," Madame Pomfrey said, chuckling to herself. She walked over to the bedside table and grabbed the empty beaker. "You'll just have to have your chocolate later."  
  
Draco waited until she had turned off the lights and left the room before opening his eyes. He didn't feel much like sleeping, he felt more like playing Quidditch. Of course there was no possible way he could do that without getting past Madame Pomfrey first. So, sighing to himself, he resolved to stay put for once and wait until the morning. Besides, the Hospital Wing was silent and empty, and sometimes silence is good. Draco rolled over on his side and looked at the snoring spider on the bedside table. He heard Hermione's words in his head. Why did you ask me to dance? Now why would somebody ask a question like that? Draco himself didn't know why he asked her. Or why he had kissed her. Dammit, she always made him want to kiss her. It was so stupid, and so infuriating, that he hated her partially for it. Only partially. But this made his 'Kissing Hermione Granger' count stand at three: one when he was drunk, two on the day they left the Training Camp, and then three, earlier that evening. He had better stop kissing her; otherwise things might get out of hand. Ahh, but things have already gotten out of hand, said an unpleasant voice in the back of Draco's head.  
  
"Nope," Draco said aloud. "I'm supposed to be insane right now, so I'm not supposed to think clearly."  
  
But you aren't insane at all, the voice continued. You're as sane as you ever were. It's too late to try and hide anything. Potter saw you kissing Hermione Granger, and she is his girlfriend. What will that lead to? You know it as well as I do he'll come sneaking in here in the middle of the night to finish you off.  
  
"As stupid as Potter is, I don't think he would do that," Draco said. "God, I can't believe I'm arguing with my conscience, or inner self, whatever people call these things." Draco looked down at his pale wrist and consulted his watch. "10:05. I can't believe it's already that late." And he rolled onto his back, pillowed his head with his arms, and closed his eyes.  
  
***  
  
Hermione lay in the girl's seventh year dormitories on her bed, staring up at the dark shadowed ceiling. Things couldn't possibly get any worse, could they? Voldemort was supposed to attack the school. Harry had seen her kissing Draco. Hermione had actually liked being kissed by Draco, even though she would deny it for ages until she finally admitted it to Ginny. Well, maybe things could get worse, she thought bitterly. Like something bad could happen to Harry, or to Ron. And maybe the school will burn down.Hermione, you prat, the school is protected by magic, it can't be burned down. No matter how hard she tried to console herself, things just looked worse each time she thought about them. And if Harry were this mad, what would Ron say? Ron would throw an even bigger tantrum than Harry had, which would probably involve a window of some sort and Malfoy's head. The only person she could think of who could possibly feel somewhat sorry for her was Ginny. Hermione had already admitted to Ginny that she had kissed Draco before, and this bit of information appalled the younger girl, but she had wanted to know what he kissed like. That's it, I'll go to Ginny. But hadn't she suggested to Hermione that she should tell Harry that she had kissed Draco? It might have been less shocking that way.  
  
"I royally messed up," Hermione moaned, turning over and burying her face in her pillow. Well, maybe it wasn't her fault that she kept getting kissed by Draco. If she could remember correctly, he had kissed her on all three occasions. Now Hermione had pushed him away twice (A/N: not before getting her money's worth: p), but tonight.her arms and legs were like jelly. No matter how hard she tried to move away, she only succeeded in moving closer and closer to Draco. Could she be developing some sort of crush or fancy for the blonde? Hermione scoffed. He's good looking, a good kisser, he can be annoying at times but there are those treasured moments.what girl wouldn't fall head-over-heels for him? Hermione remembered in fifth year when all of the girls in her year were talking about Draco. She remembered getting sick at the idea and would always flee from the conversation. Hermione had to admit he was up there on the list of 'Most Wanted Guy'. And when she finally had some information that might lead her to believe he possibly liked her, she wasn't happy about that?  
  
"Hermione, you are one messed up person."  
  
***  
  
Harry didn't even look back as he walked away from the portrait hole. He heard Hermione say his name, but as soon as she had turned around, he had just finished throwing his father's invisibility cloak over himself. He didn't know where he was going, or why he had the Marauders Map. He just had to get away from things. Harry made his way outside onto the grounds, twitching the cloak a bit to make sure his feet were hidden. The snow seeped through his socks and trouser legs, chilling him to the bone, but he wasn't paying much attention to it. He was headed for the topiary gardens, which were rarely visited by students because it was rumored to hold some very magical and powerful creatures that were somewhat dangerous, if you didn't know how to handle them. He pushed past some overgrown bushes and found a stone bench, which he sat down on and leaned against the trunk of a tree behind it, drawing his knees to his chest. Harry couldn't believe what had happened earlier. Hermione and Malfoy.why didn't he see it before? Why else would Malfoy eat breakfast with her? Why else would they do homework together? Why else would Hermione accept his offer to dance? Everything fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and with a sickening wave of realization, Harry suddenly saw what these pieces fit together to make. Hermione must like Malfoy, and Malfoy must like her. Dammit, he cursed to himself. You're such a prat, Harry Potter. You've failed at everything.  
  
But even as he sat there alone in the dark, he couldn't think of one thing he failed at. Well, he hadn't defeated Voldemort completely, but nevertheless he'd kept him at bay for nearly seventeen years. But he'd kept his promises. And he'd kept his friendship with Ron for seven years, and that was saying something. The only thing he failed at was being a good boyfriend. How, Harry didn't exactly know, but he could feel it. Why else would Hermione's affections waver? And of all people Malfoy. That thought alone was enough to make Harry sick.  
  
As he tried not to think of such things, he had a sudden idea. He sat up with realization, as if he had been wandering around in a dark closet and someone had just turned on the light. He glanced down at the Marauders Map, and then at his surroundings. Without even considering what he was about to do, he stood up and took off for the castle.  
  
***  
  
Draco wished he had taken that sleeping potion now. The hours ticked by until it was midnight, and he still hadn't fallen asleep. He considered eating the spider, but the drop of potion he had used on the spider wouldn't be enough to lull him to sleep. So he rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about his life so far. But this became boring quickly. Draco swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and stepping down onto the cold floor. He walked over to the cabinet where Madame Pomfrey had retrieved the potion from and opened the doors. They creaked loudly, and Draco looked into the dimly lit office that was Madame Pomfrey's workroom. The snoring didn't cease, so Draco turned back to the cabinet.  
  
"Gross," he whispered in disgust, as he glanced at the labels. "Who would've known what she keeps in these cabinets." He looked for a sleeping potion, but he didn't see any, so he returned to his bed and lied down. He was about to close his eyes when he saw something materialize in the corner of his room. Sitting up slowly and blinking, he said,  
  
"Potter?"  
  
***  
  
"Ginny you have to help me," Hermione pleaded. Ginny had just come from the ball downstairs, and she looked tired and sleepy. But the way Hermione approached her jolted her awake quickly.  
  
"What's wrong Herm? Are you dying or something?" Ginny said, and Hermione thought she was being sarcastic, but she wasn't sure. Hermione shook her head quickly, opening the door to the sixth year dormitory. Ginny stepped inside.  
  
"I'm not dying, I'm in serious need of some.err, guy talk," Hermione said slowly, and Ginny's eyes widened.  
  
"Oh no, not Harry. Nothing happened between you and Harry did it?" said Ginny in disbelief, and she sank weakly down onto the bed next to her. Hermione bit her lip, pulling up a chair and sitting down, her legs crossed, he gaze fixed firmly on the intricately designed rug on the floor. "Well?" Ginny urged Hermione. "Don't stop, keep talking."  
  
"It sort of happened among myself, Harry.and Draco," Hermione said softly, and Ginny nearly fell off the bed in shock.  
  
"Oh God," Ginny whispered. "Didn't I tell you something like this would happen?" Ginny scolded, standing up and shaking a finger at Hermione. Hermione glared disrespectfully at Ginny.  
  
"I haven't even told you what happened yet," said Hermione sharply. "Just sit down, I need to go back a long way to explain." Ginny looked skeptical, and Hermione sighed. "Please, I think once you hear the rest of the story, you'll be a little more happy to help me. Ginny sat back down on the bed, folding her dress neatly in front of her and letting her hair down from her bun.  
  
"Okay," Ginny said. "Spill." Hermione took a deep breath and began telling her how the whole thing came about.  
  
Hermione went on to talk about she had first come to kiss Draco. And then she talked about the little things here and there that he did for her without any apparent reason. When she came to the part where Draco had asked her to dance, Ginny drew in a sharp intake of breath. Hermione paused, but Ginny waved a hand for her to continue.  
  
"Well, we danced, and then all of a sudden, we weren't dancing. The world just sort of.disappeared. Then he kissed me. This time, neither one of us was drunk, and he did it willingly. And.well, Harry saw. You can kind of guess the rest."  
  
"Harry's pissed."  
  
"Basically, yes," Hermione said sadly. "Ginny I don't know what to do. I really, really like Malfoy, but I don't think I love him. At least not how I love Harry. Do you think it would be all right to blame this on hormones?"  
  
Ginny shook her head sternly. "No, I think you're just torn between two guys. Take me for example." The redhead gulped. "I used to like Harry, right?" Hermione's eyes widened, but she nodded anyway. "And then when I had the diary." Ginny trailed off, studying Hermione's expression.  
  
"I never saw Tom Riddle," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And I never had a quill to quill conversation with him either, so I wouldn't know. Anyway, do continue."  
  
"Well, I really liked both of them, and I didn't know what to do. Draco's like Tom, Hermione. He could hurt you. He could do something to you. Harry.well, Harry's safe. Really, really safe. Unless Voldemort kidnaps you to get to Harry, then you're in danger. But you and Harry have a better chance of staying together than you and Draco."  
  
"Ginny, you're acting as if I love Draco. And I don't! I love Harry. Maybe this is just an infatuation, a schoolgirl crush. Maybe it'll go away."  
  
"Or maybe you're making a really big mistake," Ginny continued. "Maybe you're supposed to go with Draco. I suggest you go see Professor Trelawny."  
  
"No way!" Hermione shrieked. "I quit that class a long time ago Ginny, I'm not about to go back there again."  
  
"You never know," Ginny said, shaking her head sadly. "Give it a try, what harm could it do? Unless you're afraid of seeing what might happen." Hermione let these words sink in before nodding.  
  
"Thanks Ginny. I still don't know what I'm going to do, but I'll think of something." Ginny stood up and threw her arms around the girl in a sisterly hug.  
  
"Your welcome," smiled Ginny, pulling away from Hermione. "Whatever you do, do what you think is right."  
  
***  
  
Draco was about to close his eyes when he saw something materialize in the corner of his room. Sitting up slowly and blinking, he said,  
  
"Potter?"  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said coolly. He had been sitting in the corner of the room for about five minutes before pulling the invisibility cloak off.  
  
"Good Lord, my conscience was right. You are coming here in the middle of the night to kill me," Draco said aloud in astonishment. Harry looked briefly confused before getting angry again. "How'd you know I was in the hospital wing anyway?"  
  
"I've had enough injuries during my life to have memorized every detail of this room," Harry said, standing up and brushing his invisibility cloak off. "I also know that Madame Pomfrey will look for any excuse to keep her patients overnight. Plus I have this." He held up the Marauders Map so Draco could get a brief look at it, and then he stuffed it back into his pocket.  
  
"Why are you here?" Draco asked, resting his chin on the back of his hands.  
  
"I came here to talk to you about Hermione," Harry said firmly. Draco went pale - as pale as if Harry had just struck him over and over again. Harry looked determined, and he clenched his fists menacingly. Draco opened his mouth to speak and closed it. Then he said, "All right, what about her?"  
  
"Don't play dumb Malfoy. You know perfectly well what I came here to talk about," Harry spat, seizing a chair, turning it around backwards and sitting down, his arms crossed and resting on the back piece.  
  
"What if I don't know?" Draco challenged, and Harry took a deep calming breath. Draco could see it in Harry's eyes that he really, really wanted to hit him.  
  
"I really want to hurt you right now Malfoy," Harry said, as if reading Draco's mind, "but I won't. I know better than to cause trouble in Madame Pomfrey's lair. Let's get to the point: why did you kiss Hermione?"  
  
Draco didn't say anything for a good long while. He sat, staring at Harry as if he were something he had seen everyday, and it wasn't anything particularly amazing or special. "You know Potter," said Draco. "I really don't know why I kissed her."  
  
Harry made a noise of impatience. "What are you talking about Malfoy? You couldn't possibly have been thinking, 'Oh hey, I really want to kiss someone. I might as well kiss Hermione Granger'! Harry stopped when Draco began chortling quietly to himself. "What?!"  
  
"Sorry Potter, but you really need work on your sarcasm," Draco said genially. Harry exhaled sharply through his nose, something like contempt fleeting across his face before resuming his determined attitude.  
  
"Answer my question Malfoy, or I truly will hurt you," Harry threatened. Draco cleared his throat.  
  
"I already told you Potter, I don't know why I kissed her. You must have the same excuse yourself," Draco said, and Harry looked confused. "When you're around her, she makes you want to kiss her. You do it all the time! You two will be talking, and then all of a sudden, you'll put your hands on either side of her face and kiss her senseless. It doesn't matter where you are, you just do it." Harry was blank, and for the first time in his life, Draco couldn't tell what Harry was thinking.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said slow and low. "I want you to tell me something, and be one hundred percent truthful. Is anything going on between you and Hermione?" Harry looked like he immediately wished he hadn't said anything, and Draco looked into his enemy's eyes, emerald meeting cold gray.  
  
"No Potter," Draco said quietly. "We have not established something in any way that would pertain to any feelings that could be love or affection for one another. At least I haven't."  
  
"Then why the hell did you kiss her?" Harry repeated again. "Malfoy, you must be feeling something."  
  
"I'm sorry Potter, but you've got it all wrong," Draco said, and Harry heard the familiar drawl in his voice. "If I had wanted to make Hermione Granger fall in love with me, we'd have all ready slept together. When I want something, I get it, and right now, I don't really want anything except for you to go away." He finished quickly, his voice starting out quiet and ending up louder, until Harry sat quite still, looking as if someone had just told him to go live in the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"All right then," Harry said quietly, standing up and pushing the chair he had been sitting on back to its original spot in the room. "I'll leave. But if I go talk to Hermione, and she tells me that you two are together-- ."  
  
Draco laughed hollowly, as if he were forcing it. "Trust me Potter," he said. "She won't. Remember: I'm a Malfoy, and she's a Mudblood."  
  
***  
  
The next day, Hermione stood outside the boy's dormitory, taking deep, calm, steadying breaths. She raised her hand and knocked on the door, listening for any sound of movement. The door opened, and Hermione saw Seamus Finnigan, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He cried out.  
  
"Hermione!" he said harshly, pulling her inside the boy's dormitories unexpectedly. "You could have seen something!"  
  
"You answered the door," she pointed out, a sinister grin on her face. The boys were used to Hermione coming into the dormitories so frequently that they rarely cared if she walked in on them stark naked. Rarely.  
  
"I know, it's all my fault. If you're looking for Ron--," Seamus began.  
  
"Actually, I was looking for Harry," Hermione said, standing on her tiptoes and trying to glance past him. "Any idea of where he might be?"  
  
"Oh he was up and out of here around five o'clock this morning," Seamus said in disbelief. "We usually have to pry him out of bed for classes, but today he took off without warning."  
  
"But it's Christmas morning!" Hermione said, appalled by the fact Harry hadn't even waited for Ron.  
  
"Tell me about it. I haven't even had a chance to open my presents yet," Seamus said sadly. "Have you tried the library? The Great Hall? Hagrid's?"  
  
"No, I haven't," Hermione said, somewhat put out. "But thanks anyway, I think I'll go there next."  
  
"No problem," Seamus said. Hermione made for the door, but he put a hand on her arm and she stopped. "Did anything happen between you guys?" Seamus asked, concern on his face. "I mean, he didn't come into the dormitories until one last night, and he wouldn't talk to anybody."  
  
"Oh that," Hermione said, forcing a laugh. "Seventeen year old guys are always moody, especially boyfriends. You get used to it," Hermione shrugged. Seamus looked unconvinced, but he nodded anyway.  
  
"All right, see you around Herm." She stepped outside of the boy's dormitories and leaned against the wall, her hand at her chest. She felt really horrible now, having found out that Harry didn't get back to the dormitories until late last night, and he left early without telling anyone. She'd have to go see Hagrid and ask if he'd seen anything.  
  
Hermione descended the stairs that led to the common room and out through the portrait hole. She wandered the halls, wishing she had Harry's Marauders Map with her, so she could at least try and find him. Then she remembered Draco, and how he was supposed to be out of the Hospital Wing today. Maybe he had seen Harry. No sooner had she thought about this, she turned a corner and came face to face with Draco.  
  
"Oh Draco," Hermione said, breathing a sigh of relief.  
  
"What do you want?" Draco said, and he sounded.different. Almost the way he used to talk to her when he.when he hated her.  
  
"Umm," Hermione stuttered, completely thrown off by this sudden show of harshness. "I was wondering if you'd seen Harry anywhere."  
  
"Potter? Why would I see Potter? And would you please get out of my way, I'm in a hurry to get somewhere."  
  
"Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on her arm. Draco jerked out of her grasp, a look of revulsion on his face. Hermione just stared.  
  
"Look, nothing's wrong. I already told you, I don't know where Potter is so '___' insert the word here once you put it up, and take it off once you're done__ off will you?" He walked past her and bumped into her shoulder, jamming her other arm into the wall. She cried out and watched him walk off.  
  
"Oh God why this!" Hermione said, burying her face in her hands. Draco was really, really angry with her, and she didn't know why. Was it because of last night? Maybe he did have a talk with-  
  
"Harry!" Hermione yelled. Forgetting her injured arm, she pushed past a group of people and ran up to him. Harry was leaning against the wall, his eyes shut, glasses off. When he heard her call out his name, he opened his eyes, which were so startlingly green it made her want to look away. "Where have you been?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Around."  
  
"Listen Harry, about last night--."  
  
"Is anything going on between you and Malfoy?" Harry asked her suddenly, piercing her with his stare. Hermione opened her mouth in shock.  
  
"No! Of course not Harry! I just passed him in the halls and he.he was different," Hermione said, and she bit her lip to keep from crying.  
  
"I talked to him last night, and he told me nothing was going on between you two--." Harry looked suddenly relieved.  
  
"You talked to him last night?" Hermione said in disbelief, and Harry nodded.  
  
"Yeah. He told me that if you two had been together, you would have already slept with each other by now. Then he called you a Mudblood and told me to sod off. Something like that. Why?"  
  
"A-A Mudblood?" Hermione echoed, her voiced tinny. Harry looked confused.  
  
"Doesn't he call you that all the time?" he asked, and Hermione felt a single tear slide down her cheek.  
  
"Yes.I mean no, not since we got back from the Auror Training Camp-Harry, something is wrong with him. He was so different just now," Hermione said, crying freely now. Harry looked embarrassed.  
  
"Look Hermione, it just wasn't meant to be. You and Malfoy just.aren't supposed to be friends," Harry explained awkwardly, as Hermione began sobbing louder. She only threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. Harry didn't comfort her or pat her on the head, he just went tense. Hermione let go of him, her cheeks streaked with lines where her tears had fallen.  
  
"Harry--."  
  
"I need to go," Harry said suddenly. "I have something I've been meaning to do." And he moved out of her reach and walked past her in the direction Draco had gone.  
  
"What have I done," Hermione said, burying her face in he hands.  
  
***  
  
"Ginny, he wouldn't even talk to me," Hermione said sadly, sitting at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. They were there for lunch, and to possibly try to find Harry or Draco. Both of them were missing.  
  
"Well I wouldn't either you know," Ginny pointed out, helping herself to Hermione's roll, which she flat-out refused to eat until she found Harry at least. Hermione scowled.  
  
"You're not helping me!" she shrieked, setting her elbows on the table and resting her head on her palms. "And Draco.that was so different. I mean he was really different, Ginny," Hermione said sadly, and a single tear slid down her nose and onto the tablecloth. Ginny made a face of sympathy and patted the older girl on the back.  
  
"Isn't there a prefect meeting today?" Ginny asked, taking a bite of the roll she had stolen from Hermione earlier. Hermione looked up at Ginny.  
  
"Yeah, yeah there is," she said thoughtfully. "Do you think Draco--."  
  
"He has to be there. I mean, he's head boy after all, he'd better be there," Ginny continued, starting on Hermione's toast.  
  
"You're right," Hermione said, perking up slightly. "I'm going to eat that now," she said, giggling. Ginny scowled, moving her fork away from Hermione's cinnamon roll.  
  
"Fine, fine. I'll eat my own cinnamon roll!" she squeaked, holding the pastry protectively to her chest. This was a mistake, because when she put it back on her plate, there was frosting on her Weasley sweater. "Oh great," she grumbled, bringing out her wand and fixing her sweater.  
  
"God Weasley, you're sixteen years old and you still can't eat without making a mess?" Hermione's heart fluttered. The familiar drawl.she turned around in her chair.  
  
"Draco," she said quietly. He was standing there, wearing an obviously expensive dark green cashmere sweater. It was lined with silver, and with the muggle jeans, he looked downright.hot.  
  
"Granger," Draco said even more quietly. Ginny looked from the pale blonde to the tanned brunette. Her eyes widened.  
  
"Going to the prefects meeting today?" Hermione asked in a choked voice, averting her eyes and staring at the ground.  
  
"Of course. I'm head boy aren't I?" he pointed out. Somebody called out his name, and he turned his head, glancing down the long rows of tables to the speaker. When he did this, Hermione saw a silver chain at his neck, tucked into his shirt. It couldn't be the ring, could it, she thought carefully. Her thoughts strayed to the watch on her wrist, and then back to Draco.  
  
"Well then, I suppose I'll be seeing you there," Hermione said, an idea popping into her head.  
  
"Whatever," Draco said nonchalantly, and he turned and walked back to the Slytherin table. Ginny, mouth still open, dropped her fork.  
  
"And this is the same Draco Malfoy who walked you to your classes?" she said in disbelief, and Hermione smiled weakly back at her.  
  
"I told you he was different," Hermione pointed out. "I'm afraid," she began, biting her lip, "that something happened between him and Harry." Ginny shrugged her shoulders, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair.  
  
"Doesn't something always happen between them? They're always fighting, aren't they?"  
  
"Something different," Hermione responded. "It's like they made a pact to hate me or something."  
  
Ginny shook her head furiously, her red hair falling out of it's ponytail holder. "Harry wouldn't do something like that," Ginny told her firmly.  
  
"Or would he? He's never been in a situation like this, so maybe I've never seen this side of him."  
  
"Personally, I think you deserve it. Going around snogging Draco, it's enough to make any guy angry," Ginny responded sharply. "You've gotten yourself into this mess. Now, you can't have either one of them."  
  
Hermione stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the entire bench. "If that's the way you see things, fine." She turned on her heel and began walking to the entrance of the Great Hall.  
  
"Hermione!" Ginny called, standing up to project her voice better. "Hermione come on!"  
  
As Hermione heard Ginny call her name, she didn't turn around. Serves her right, she thought bitterly. But Ginny's words kept replaying themselves inside her head. Personally, I think you deserve it. Going around snogging Draco, it's enough to make any guy angry. You've gotten yourself into this mess. Now, you can't have either one of them. Deep down, Hermione knew Ginny had been right. But she didn't want to believe it.  
  
"Hermione, slow down!"  
  
"Ron!" Hermione yelled, outraged. It seemed all she ever did was bump into unexpected people. Ron pretended to be offended.  
  
"Hermione, I'm shocked! What's with this sudden onset of annoyingness?"  
  
"I'm sorry Ron," Hermione said, putting a hand to her forehead. "It's just been such a long weekend."  
  
"Tell me about it," Ron said in agreement. "You look like you could use a good night's rest. Are you feeling okay?" Ron asked in concern. Hermione nodded, but stopped.  
  
"Maybe I don't feel so good," she murmured. "You know what, I think I'll go upstairs and rest for a bit."  
  
"All right," Ron asked. "Do you need any help?"  
  
"No brother Weasley," Hermione teased, and he grinned weakly.  
  
"Okay, okay, I won't be brother Weasley."  
  
***  
  
Draco leaned against the wall of the castle, a smooth rock in his clenched hand. He was standing outside, shadowed by the trees, his arms crossed, eyes closed. As much as he hated doing it, he had to stop his friendship with Hermione. He had kissed her three times for no apparent reason.well, saying she made him want to kiss her was a reason, but that was beside the point. If he couldn't restrain himself, then things could get ugly. Staying away from her seemed the best option right now, even if it would hurt him and her. He exhaled sharply, opening his eyes. With every bit of strength he had, he flung the rock as hard as he could out over the grounds. There was a soft and unpleasant thunk, and then an 'ow!' Startled, Draco unfolded his arms, leaning out and looking down the sloping hill. He had flung the rock at Potter's head.  
  
"Oh great," Draco whispered, moaning involuntarily. Potter was rubbing his head, his glasses split in two. He looked up, his eyes squinted, and focused his blurry vision on Malfoy. His eyes widened.  
  
"Malfoy, just because you have occasional temper tantrums doesn't mean you need to go throwing rocks at people," Harry said grumpily, reaching into his robe pocket and bringing out his wand. He tapped his glasses and they were instantly repaired.  
  
"I didn't mean to," Draco responded sharply, and Harry was briefly shocked. He put his glasses back on, blinking rapidly to focus his vision again. When he looked back up at Draco, he looked as if he were trying to suppress a smile. "What?" Draco scowled.  
  
Harry shook his head in silent laughter, looking back at the ground so Draco couldn't see his rapidly spreading grin. "Potter, quit grinning like a maniac and tell me what's so funny," Draco demanded.  
  
"Sorry Malfoy, you're just so funny. I can't explain it, you just-are," Harry grinned. Malfoy looked appalled.  
  
"I'm not funny! Well, when I'm trying to be funny I am, but-look Potter, I'm really not in the mood to talk to you right now. Actually, I'm never in a good mood to talk to you, so just go away," Draco finished, dismissing Harry with a wave of his hand, and he turned to go back to the castle.  
  
"Malfoy wait," Harry said suddenly. When Draco turned around, Harry was running up the hill to him. When he finally reached the blonde boy, he jerked his chin, indicating the lake. "Walk with me for a few minutes," Harry said breathlessly. Draco just stared at him as if he were an alien that had just descended from a huge galactic space ship and demanded that he hand over the beautiful virgins of the planet.  
  
"What?" Draco cried out in disbelief. Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"Come on, I promise I won't try to kill you," said Harry, and Draco scoffed.  
  
"Like you really could?" he smirked, and Harry just glared. "Well you asked me to walk, so let's walk," Draco demanded impatiently. They walked for a few minutes in silence, and Draco respectfully didn't disturb it. The other boy appeared to be doing some serious thinking, and Draco understood how he himself liked to be left alone when he did such a thing. Finally, Harry spoke.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry began slowly. "Hermione told me you had been acting differently around her." Draco didn't look at Harry.  
  
"Yeah," Draco said, in a somewhat sarcastic voice. "So?" Harry held out an arm to stop Draco from walking and he turned to face him.  
  
"Look Malfoy, I'm not asking because I'm concerned about you, I'm concerned about her. She really valued your friendship, and she's depressed right now. Have you done anything to hurt her? Because I swear, if you did--."  
  
"Potter, I would never, ever hurt her intentionally," Draco said, in a low voice, and Harry stared at him, his eyes confused yet inquiring.  
  
"Then what the hell did you do to her?" Harry demanded. "She keeps saying you're different. I didn't hang around long enough for her to elaborate, but I didn't think I needed to."  
  
"You'd just get angry," Draco said hurriedly, and he resumed walking. Harry ran to catch up.  
  
"Malfoy please," Harry said in a strangled voice. "Just listen for a few minutes, and then I'll let you go." Draco didn't stop, and Harry firmly grabbed his arm, yanking him back. Harry thought Draco might have been shocked, but the blank look was back on his face. "I don't really want to talk to you," he began. "I just want to know why you're treating her this way."  
  
Draco put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Potter," he said warily. "That wasn't the first time I'd ever kissed her," Draco finished. Harry looked blank, void of any expression.  
  
"What? I don't understand--."  
  
"At the ball, I kissed her. But that wasn't the only time something like that had happened." A revolted look replaced Harry's blank one. "Once, I kissed her when I was drunk, and another time when we were getting ready to go back to Hogwarts."  
  
"So you mean to say.you've kissed her before?" Harry said lowly, and Draco nodded slowly. Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand up in all directions more than it had before. "Why didn't she tell me?"  
  
"She was afraid," Draco said simply. "She was afraid what you might do if you found out." Draco looked very tired just then. "Twice she pushed me away, and tonight was the only time she didn't protest." This improved Harry's mood slightly, but he was still looking as if he had been told the world was ending in three minutes.  
  
"Afraid?" Harry said weakly, and he suddenly looked as if he needed to sit down. "But she.she can tell me anything," Harry explained to Draco. Malfoy shook his head.  
  
"Okay, imagine if I were Hermione," Draco said, and Harry eyed him with uneasiness. "No Potter, you don't have to kiss me or anything. Just pretend I'm her talking to you."  
  
"Malfoy--."  
  
"Come on Potter," Draco growled warningly. Harry sighed, nodding his head. "Okay. Harry?" Draco said, in a high voice, and Harry nearly choked on laughter. Draco ignored him. "I want you to know I've kissed Draco before, and that he's really really hot, and--."  
  
"Okay, okay," Harry yelled, clenching his fists at his side. Draco grinned.  
  
"See? You're pissed already! Imagine what you would have done if you had heard it coming from her for the first time," Draco said, and Harry looked embarrassed.  
  
"So I lose my temper every now and then," Harry shrugged. "Everyone does."  
  
"But see why she would have been afraid to tell you?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess. But I still don't see why this affects you treating her bad," Harry scowled. It was Draco's turn to be embarrassed.  
  
"Oh, that. When I'm around her," Draco began, walking towards a garden bench and sitting down. Harry joined him. "I don't exactly know why, but she makes me feel so.different." Harry was wide eyed. "She makes me feel like.well, that no matter what I do, she'll still be my friend. And no matter what my past is, she'll accept me for it."  
  
"Malfoy, do you have feelings for her?" Harry asked slowly.  
  
"No way Potter," Draco said carelessly. "She's just a really good person, and you don't find many people like her. You should feel lucky," he added, "to have a girlfriend like her." They sat still, an awkward silence over the two boys. Harry was looking at the ground and Draco had his head back, eyes closed. They wouldn't realize until later that this would be one of the nicer moments they would share.  
  
"Well," Harry said after awhile. "This has been quite the conversation."  
  
"Yeah," Draco said, involuntarily agreeing with him. "But hey, I've got a prefects meeting in a bit, so I'll catch you later."  
  
"Okay," Harry said, standing up, and Draco followed suit. He was about to head back to the castle when-  
  
"Potter," Draco said, and Harry turned around. "You're not so bad," he said after awhile. Harry pulled a face.  
  
"I did not just hear you say that," he said teasingly.  
  
"I guess not," Draco shrugged, and they both went their separate ways.  
  
***  
  
"Prefects," Draco said, looking down at his notes and then back up at the students watching him. "There are a few things I'd like to run over briefly. Now about Voldemort--." A wave of whispers broke out among the students, and Draco paused, waiting for the usual hubbub to subside. "Voldemort would be stupid to attack the school now that we have a warning. Especially with our added security. The ghosts have finally agreed to watch over the school at night. This should be good news for you, as some of you have been complaining about the assigned patrol hours that lead well into the early hours of the morning." Everyone went into cheering. Draco felt Hermione's eyes on him. He didn't know why, but it made him very, very nervous. "The centaurs have also told us that they would inform Dumbledore if they saw anything suspicious going on in the forbidden forest."  
  
"Also," Hermione said, and everyone turned to look at her, "please try and remember that this is very important to the school's safety. If you slack off on your duties, who knows what might happen. One person can make a tremendous difference."  
  
"Exactly. This is what we're talking about," said Draco firmly. "Keep your eyes open." Draco looked to Hermione, and she avoided his gaze. She somehow must have sensed it was her turn to talk, so she stood up.  
  
"Your new schedules have been made, and they go as follows," Hermione said, and she began to read off a list of names Draco hardly even heard. He was too intent upon letting his eyes wash over her, almost as if seeing her in a new light (although he had seen her in that fine black evening gown). He watched her lips move as she talked, the way her tongue would occasionally flick out and run itself over her lips, and then she would resume talking. He watched as she fidgeted the paper in her hands, and the way she would occasionally pause to chew on her index finger. Her neck was incredibly long and graceful, and his eyes wandered down to her shoulders, and-  
  
He snapped his eyes shut with a grimace. Mustn't think such things Malfoy, he told himself sternly. Mustn't think such things. But when he opened his eyes, Hermione had stopped speaking, and she was looking at him. Everyone in the room was silent.  
  
"Malfoy," she said hurriedly. "Don't you agree?"  
  
"Agree with what?" Draco said, sitting up abruptly.  
  
"Agree that these schedules are a lot better?" she said, casting him a warning glance. Draco nodded sleepily.  
  
"Perfect. Absolutely smashing. Now would you please excuse me," he said quietly, standing up and exiting the abandoned classroom. A few seconds later, Hermione rushed after him, leaving the students unattended.  
  
She caught up to Draco in a corridor nearly three halls away, just as he was about to climb a staircase. "Draco!" she yelled, and he stopped, his back to her.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, still not turning around to face her. She walked up to him, clutching a stitch in her side.  
  
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked cautiously, her hand on the stone wall to support herself.  
  
"I'm feeling a little light headed," he said, turning around to face her now. "Why do you ask?" Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. Draco smiled softly, and walked directly up to her. Then, he put his lips to her ear and whispered, "I'm sorry". He heard the papers Hermione had been holding slip out of her grasp, fluttering down to their feet in a flurry of rippling pages. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck, his arms snaking around her waist, his fingers locking and resting against the small of her back. She loosened her grip around his neck, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.  
  
"What has been going on?" she whispered softly, her arms still around his neck, his arms around her waist. "I've been so worried that something had happened, and that you hated me--."  
  
"I was having one of my bad days," he told her simply, and she grinned. "But Hermione.we have to stop this," he told her firmly. She looked into his eyes, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.  
  
"Stop what?"  
  
"This," Draco said, greatly emphasizing the word, and he glanced down at his hands, which had somehow found their way under her shirt and were resting against her back, her skin warm. Hermione must have suddenly realized it too, because she shivered. "I can't keep kissing you, and you can't keep kissing me back. You have a boyfriend Hermione," he said, with a concentrated amount of effort. "And I-I'm not even sure I love you or anything." Damn, the words sounded so wrong.  
  
"Oh," Hermione said quickly and quietly. "I mean, I don't really love you either." Ouch, those words hurt too.  
  
"Of course not," Draco grinned nervously. "This.this just isn't right."  
  
"I agree one hundred percent," Hermione said. She let her arms fall down to her sides, and Draco removed his hands from under her shirt, crossing them stiffly over his chest. "I just want you to tell me one thing," she said. "Why did you kiss me?"  
  
"I can't answer that," Draco said lowly. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No, no, it's okay," Hermione said quickly and almost sadly. "Ron's kissed me on a few occasions. Maybe it's misread feelings or something."  
  
"Weasley kissed you?" Draco nearly yelled, and Hermione giggled.  
  
"Well yeah, once was in a broom closet, because we were hiding from Snape, and another on the Quidditch field, when he was so happy Harry had won a game," Hermione said. "Of course it was really revolting, but he enjoyed it a bit."  
  
"Man," Draco grinned back, running a hand through his hair. "I never would have guessed."  
  
"Just don't tell Harry," Hermione whispered slyly in his ear, and Draco nearly fell over. The feel of her lips against the side of his cheek, and her breath hissing into his ear made him want to kiss her again. Stop, stop, stop, he told himself furiously.  
  
"All right, I won't tell Potter," Draco said, stepping a good deal away back from her. "You'd better get back to the prefects meeting. There's no telling what they could be doing right now."  
  
"Yeah, you're right. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Hermione asked, her forehead winkled in concern.  
  
"I think I'm all right, I just need to lie down for a bit. But hey, good luck with the meeting," Draco said, turning around and walking up the stairs to the Slytherin dormitories.  
  
***  
  
Inside his Head Boy room, Draco only had just enough time to unbutton his shirt before collapsing onto his bed. There was an odd burning pain in his left shoulder. The room around him swam out of focus, and he clutched his stomach, suddenly feeling as if he were going to become violently sick. Feeling he should get a glass of water, he stood up, making for the door. But he paused, seeing his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were dark black, staring back at him ominously. His hair, no longer slicked back, was in his eyes, and he impatiently brushed them out of his way. But it wasn't his hair or his eyes that shocked him. On his left shoulder was a black serpent that looked almost as if it had been tattooed there. It was edged in silver, which shone brightly in the dimly lit room. Running his fingers over it, he stared.  
  
"What is going on?"  
  
----------------- Author's Note:  
  
In the next chapter, Harry talks to Hermione, there's a bit more kissing, Hermione reads a book, Draco discovers something about Hermione, and insanity ensues.  
  
Special thanks to those who reviewed: 


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